


My Toy

by sushisama



Series: Weirdmaggedon-ly After [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bondage, Do not expect a happily ever after, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Masturbation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Sexual Content, Vore, breaking in - Freeform, suicide mention/attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 70,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushisama/pseuds/sushisama
Summary: Seven years after Bill Cipher’s successful take over of the world, Dipper and the remaining survivors from Gravity Falls have been running from the tyrant.  But after finally being caught, Dipper finds himself alone the monster who has malicious intent.  Note major character deaths in the first chapter.





	1. Seven Years After

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born out of a need to vent some intrusive thoughts. Billdip has always been my vent couple, so it turned into this. Please be mindful of the warnings. It's not the most extreme of things (I have more story ideas for that), but it's still there. The whole thing is a way to break Dipper into being Bill's toy. If it gets enough interest, I'll continue past the point I have written up (which is like five parts).  
> Also, this is done without much re-read or a beta.

            It had been seven years since Bill had won.

            Despite all of their attempts and plans, Dipper, Mabel, and the rest of the gang had failed to thwart all of the evil triangle’s schemes, and his control broke through the barrier and throughout the world.  He had been arrogant and vocal about 'breaking Sixer,' and finding the way out.  The tragedy that had befallen Gravity Falls had crept along all the Earth’s surface, and madness had reigned supreme.

            Somehow, through a bout of both luck and combined skills, the group had made it through the disaster.  Well, at the beginning it had been all of them.  They had everyone from they’d retrieved from the Mystery Shack when they left.  After their plans fell through on saving the world, they all agreed to leave, trying to stay ahead of the chaos sweeping the globe.

            Grunkle Stanford was left behind, presumably still encased in gold and on display in the Fearymid.  There had been no possible way to get to him before Grunkle Stanley was pulling them into the modified bus and speeding out.

            The first year had been rough, but they all made it.  They banded together and used their various skills to both outrun the coming apocalypse for a good long while, but survive it when it finally came.  They hit the east coast and stalled out, fighting and hiding as needed from there.

            It was Stanley who went first.  It was apparent that Bill had never forgotten them, as he sent horror after     horror to find them.  A swarm of eye-bats came, bringing an end to their brief stint of normality on the boardwalk of the Jersey Shore, and targeted all of them specifically.  Of course they made victims of all the passers-by, but it was clear their aim was on them.

            Stanley fought, as they all did, but he was cornered by some cephalopod horror that gripped him so tight, he burst in a mix of blood, gore, and something that looked like mini skee balls. 

            They had been heart broken by the loss, but had to move on.  Not that there was anywhere to go, but upstate New York had better places to make into a hiding space than near the coastline.  Within two years, though, they were found again, and this time the toll was even more tragic.  Their improvised home was ransacked by more madness, their friends combined and torn apart, made into statues and then destroyed, Gideon was even made into a rhinestone set of shoes.

            It was lucky any of them made it out.  So many lives lost, but Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Candy, Pacifica, Soos, and Sheriff Blubs had been the only ones left.  Ghost Eyes had survived, but refused to go without Gideon, and hung onto his laces as an eye-bat carried him back.

            They headed back to New York City then.  This time they went completely underground, finding an abandoned subway station for a home.  They were able to barricade it off from the chaos around them, only coming out when they absolutely had to, and it became a new life.  It was an odd one, for sure, and a harrowing reality when they thought of what waited for them outside, but at least they were still alive.

            The group was there for years.  They succeeded in keeping out the evil and growing in their new home.  So much so, that they were able to find other survivors, and start a real colony.  They flourished, having different groups for different things.  They even stole a bunch of gardening lamps from stores (was it even really stealing anymore?) and had begun making their own crops and even a small bit of livestock.  (That had been the hard part, getting calves and piglets from just north in the state, but it had been a worthwhile trip.)

            The original group had become something like leaders.  Even the kids, Dipper, Mabel, Pacifica, and Candy, now young adults, had their place among the top and had garnered respect.  Though Wendy, Soos, and the Sheriff were held in a bit more regard (it helped that they were always the forefront of any assault).

            The girls spent most of their time helping the colony flourish.  They would comfort those who came in and would find the best fitting work for everyone.  It was because of Mabel's charisma and Pacifica's demands that anything got done at all.

            All the while, Dipper stayed mostly to himself when he wasn't being forced into 'society' by his sister and friends.  He had to find something, something that would make all of this end.  Something that could bring the nightmare to a close, and life back to what it was before the rift had been broken and Bill had come through.  He broke into library and college alike, not just then, but all the way from Gravity Falls, searching for something, anything.  And they mostly left him to it, knowing full well it was the best use that Dipper would ever be to them.

            He was intent on finding the answer.  It was difficult with no journals, and even more so without Stanford.  He even had a thought here and again that seeing Bill would somehow trigger the right idea, like it had before.  But ever since Gravity Falls, Dipper hadn't even heard the chaos god's horrible laugh, nonetheless seen the yellow triangle.  He supposed this was for the best, but he knew, deep down, Bill was still after them, even with his intent focused all over the world.

            Dipper was reminded of this every night, in his nightmares, a disembodied voice whispering how he was being watched.

            For so many years, he had done his research alone.  Once and again, someone would try to help him, but inevitably would get annoyed with their presence and dismiss them.  He felt he was like Stanford during those moments, how reclusive he had become, but he could understand the necessity of that part of his Great Uncle's mind as he poured over possible solutions to their problem.  He contented himself to being alone, that it was all on him, just like he was sure Stanford had thought before.

            There were so many times he had just longed for a few more moments, even one more minute with Stanford, just to get the answer, how to defeat the evil that had taken over the world.  But he couldn't take it back, and had to live with the moment he found himself in.

            He was alone in the endeavour for five years, no one really knowing or understanding how to help him in his search.  That was, until they found William. 

He had been among a group of survivors they had found and brought back underground about a year after setting up.  Dipper at first didn't have any interest in the dark skinned teenager.  He just seemed like any others they had met, and though he was kind and soft spoken, there was nothing that really stood out about him other than he was handsome.  His skin was a dark cocoa, accented beautifully by his short but fluffy black with blond on top hair style.  His eyes were two different colours, one that looked almost gold and the other a deep umber.

It was when he overheard him singing in a language he hadn't recognised that he had some intrigue.  He soon found out, between his thick Nigerian accent, that William had been raised a linguist, and knew many a language, even dead ones.  With some timidness, Dipper had asked him to help translate documents and books that he had taken just in case.  William, though somewhat shy, seemed eager to help.

They had grown to be close friends from there.  Most of their time was spent going over the academics, learning about different gods and instances of time they felt Bill had an influence on, and maybe finding something that would help.  They weren't really successful, but the time was still enjoyable.

What really drove them together was when Wendy passed.  It had been horrible, watching her go in a blaze caused by a falling donut, and there was nothing they could do.  Dipper had grieved, his heart breaking from the loss of someone so influential in his life.  And that night, William held him and reassured him, and Dipper, in a moment of need for comfort, had kissed him.

It wasn't such a jump for them, Mabel had even made jokes that it was an inevitability for them.  It was tragic what had brought the relationship to fruition, but he was still grateful for it.  They were inseparable since  then.

Time came and went, and everything was slowing down.  Even the attacks above were less and less, and Dipper had come to the assumption that Bill was getting bored.  It was something he had imagined would happen at some point or another, that the chaos god would simply lose interest in the world.  With no solutions coming from his books, he made this to be the only way they had.  Let him tire himself out until he dropped his guard, and then strike back.

It didn't seem like anything anyone really wanted to do, many of the colony just accepting things the way they were, and no one really making any plans other than that.  Even Dipper knew they were stuck, there was no way they could make it back to the west coast, not without some serious planning and help.

William hadn't been helpful, either.  His interest in the answer had waned, to the point he would distract Dipper from any real time with his books and papers.  And honestly, Dipper didn't mind.  He had come to love his boyfriend, and knowing the feeling was returned, he knew that he did it because he cared and wanted him to live a little.

Dipper had fallen into a more active role into the community their seven year after the beginning of the Weirdemeggedon.  He got involved with planning and farming, and after some time, he started to forget about their objective to defeat Bill.  He had almost completely forgotten the yellow triangle.  Even his nightmares were less, aided by the cuddling from his boyfriend on a nightly basis.

It was all for nought, though.  Complacent as they had become, none of them expected the attack.  Monsters and terrors invaded the subway tunnels, destroying the crops, eating the animals, and setting all of their structures on some odd water like fire.

And before Dipper's eyes, they all perished.  Every survivor, Sheriff Blubs, all of them.  And as Mabel was being unwound like a sweater, sinew pulling, Dipper was being tugged away, hoisted out of the middle of the danger.  William dragged him away, pulling him from every last chaos-induced horror around them, and not letting go until they were so deep in the subway, they no longer heard the screams above.

"We have to go back!" Dipper yelled the moment William had let go of his hand.

"Go back to what?" William quipped back.  "Everyone's gone, Dipper!"

The youth looked at him, tears welling in his eyes.  "Don't you think I know that?"  He sat down heavily as a sob left him.  "But I can't... I can't leave Mabel..."

William sighed.  He sat next to Dipper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  "We need to find somewhere safe."

"I need to—"

"I know what you need, Dipper."  William leaned in, pressing his forehead to Dipper's temple.  "And I promise you can scream, cry, whatever, but first, first let's get somewhere safe."

Dipper breathed in deep, a choke of a sob in his throat.  "Fine," he said, nodding.  "Let's just go."

They stood up, William holding tight to Dipper's hand.  It was none too soon, either, as they heard a growl above them.  Pulling him forward, William led them further into the subway system.

"Do you know where you're going?" Dipper asked.  At some point, they had started to run, and he was getting exhausted.

William didn't answer him at first.  He just kept his pace forward, making turn after turn.

"William?" he said, trying to get his attention.

"Almost there," he just barely heard.

"Where are we going?"

Again, he went unanswered.

Suddenly, they stopped.  Dipper, so concentrated on William, didn't see the arch they had come to, and slammed right into his back with an undignified sound.  He pulled himself away as much as he could, but his boyfriend had a death grip on his wrist still.  He looked at his dark hand before his gaze flicked up to him again.

"William, you're worrying me."

"Dipper," he said, his tone oddly even.  He wasn't looking at him as he spoke.  "Do you trust me?"

"What?"  He blinked.  "Of course, William.  Why are you asking?  What's going on?"

William pulled on his wrist, dragging him forward, but catching him in his arms at the last moment.  He leaned in, his breath gracing Dipper's ear.  "There's been something following us all the way."

Dipper's eyes widened.  "What, wait—"

"We can't keep outrunning it," he continued to whisper.

"What are you planning on doing?"

Dipper's skin prickled as a soft chuckle passed William's lips.  "I love you, Dipper."

There was a light kiss on his forehead, before he was being roughly shoved into the archway and beyond.  He only had a glimpse of William, smiling at him, a pink slime behind him and getting closer, and then he was met with concrete on his backside.  The threshold seemed to close off, like something had fallen before it, and Dipper was locked in darkness.

"William!" he shouted.  He got to his feet, forcing himself to the doorway, but only finding stone.  He shouted for him again and again, but only a scream was returned.

He banged on the stone, begging, pleading, wanting free.  But he was trapped, and his hope for saving William died as his screams did.  He slid down the rock, his tears coming anew.

With a mantra of no, repeated over and over, he sobbed.  He was on his knees, for how long he didn't know.  He wept, and he screamed, and he pleaded for the return of any of his loved ones.  They were gone.  All of them.  Both his Great Uncles, Wendy, Soos, Pacifica,..  And William, he may not have been in his life as long, but he had become nearly as important as his sister.  His sister!  Mabel, oh, Mabel...

Dipper cried and screamed until he felt dried up and his throat was raw.  He slid completely to the ground, curling into a ball as the last bit of sobs left him.  He felt tired.  Everything about the day had him tired.  The silence around him was a sign that it had stopped.  Whatever had been on the other side of the door, ripping away the last bit of the world from him, had left, or at least he assumed.

He didn't really care, either way.  What did it matter?  He closed his eyes, one last whine coming from him as he let his fatigue take him.


	2. The Meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper comes face to face with the monster triangle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vore in this chapter. Not really heavy on it, but it's there.  
> If you don't know what vore is, google it real fast. Might want to familiarise yourself.

Dipper didn't know how much time had passed.  It was still dark when he woke up, still pressed against the stone door.  He didn't move at first, thinking he would just stay there.  Stay in front of the door until he passed away.  It was a dark thought, one he had never been familiar with.  He was sure that other survivors of the apocalypse entertained ideation of ending it all often, but he never did.

He always had a reason, always had a purpose.  Protect the people he loved, start a sustainable colony, defeat Bill...  He'd failed.  He'd failed at every purpose he'd have.

But he couldn’t give up, could he?  Not like this.  No, he had to keep trying.  He had to do something.  He had to... had to...

A loud thud against the stone made Dipper jump.  He turned around, staring at the door.  He blinked.  There was a light coming through, illuminating the edges.  How long had it been like that?  He could have sworn a moment ago it was pitch black.

He stood up slowly, his eyes focused on the door.  There was a long moment that he did nothing aside from blink a few more times.  Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the stone.  The brick was warm under his fingertips, something he wasn't expecting after being on the cold floor for so long.  Calmly, he pressed his palm flat, as if he were feeling if it were real.

With a slow, creaking noise, the door swung open.  Dipper once more froze in place.  The hallway before him was not the tunnel system he had run through with William.  It was empty, no piping, no stone or brick.  It was illuminated at the base boards by long strips of yellow lights leading off far into the dark.

"What the..."

He didn't move for a long time.  He was stuck in a moment of indecision, should he or shouldn't he go.  Was this something caused by maybe a random madness bubble?  It had to be.  Either that, or dehydration was causing him to hallucinate.  That was also possible.

But there was nothing behind him, and only this ahead of him.  Maybe it was a hallucination, maybe he was just dreaming, or maybe it was real.  Either way, he had no other option, so he stepped forward.  Step after step, he walked along the hallway, as endless as it appeared to be.

The walk felt like miles.  It could have been, for all he knew.  But nothing more came into view, and he was growing too tired to walk.  He was hungry and thirsty, too, which just made the whole situation worse.  He didn't know how much longer he could keep it up.  He was barely making it as it were.

Somehow, he pushed himself forward, though, for as long as he could.  His limbs felt like they were burning, but there had to be some end to the hall.  There had to be a door, or he'd even take a turn, but it just kept going on.  But there was nothing else.  Nowhere else to go, and if he went back the way he came, it would just be the same thing until he got back into whatever room he was in before.

However, it could last for only so long before he couldn't do it anymore.  His legs finally gave out and he fell to the ground (which was made of, what, acrylic, vinyl?  It wasn't stone or concrete), his arms tangling beneath him.  He cursed under his breath.  What was the point of this hall?  Where was he going?  Was it even real?  Was this all in his mind?  Was he dying and this was his tunnel into the light?  How cliché.

If he was going to die, why can't he go out the way the others had?  Everyone went down fighting or protecting someone, and what was he doing?  Had he even left that room?  Was he still on the floor, curled into a ball and crying?  What was the point of this hallucination?  Can't he at least make it something he would enjoy?  Like campfire stories with Grunkle Stanley or in the basement learning with Ford?  Having a casual hang out with Wendy, making a random dance scene with Mabel, or even spending a moment with William?  Why couldn't he have something like that?

"Took you long enough."

Dipper's eyes snapped open.  He knew that voice, that high pitched, always so smug and ethereal voice.

"Bill!" he shouted as he sat up in a flash.  He looked around, desperate to find the source of the disembodied voice.  "Show yourself!"  He tried to sound confident, but as he had trouble standing up and his voice took on a tenor that was reminiscent of his twelve year old self, he knew it wasn't coming across that way at all.

He didn't find Bill, but he did find plenty of triangles in the room that now surrounded him.  It was pressed into all the walls, effigies of the chaos god everywhere, in what seemed like a grandiose throne room.  There was the odd arrangement of items, seats made out of fingers, tapestries made out of still wiggling silkworms, what he had come to associate with Bill.  And in the middle of it all was a raised seat, no stairs to it, a throne out of bone and wrapping paper.

As he stared at the demented seat, yellow light materialise, and there he was, in all his demonic glory.  His eye conveyed a sense of smugness that he knew would soon be matched by his voice.  He was the same as he always had been, bow tie and hat still prominent, as he leaned back in the seat.

"Ta da," he said through what could be interpreted as a drawl.  "Miss me?"

Dipper narrowed his eyes.  "Who would miss you?"

Bill made a sound like clicking a tongue.  "Of course you did."  He chuckled.  "I've been waiting forever for you, you know?  Sure know how to keep a guy waiting."

"Why wait?  Why now?"

"Well, that should be easy enough to understand."  He snickered again.  He rose from his throne, coming to float down in front of Dipper.  "But we'll get to that.  You look terrible."

Dipper huffed in response.

"Of course you do, though.  Living underground will do that to a guy, huh?  You used to be so tan, too.  Look at you, you've lost all your colour."

"What do you want?"

Bill waved his hand.  "We'll get there, we'll get there."  He snapped his fingers, and Dipper was suddenly pulled back and down into a chair.  He squirmed, trying to stand again, but straps came to pin him to the seat at the wrists and across his thighs.  The ones on his legs pressed in hard, and a whine left him at the bite of the leather.

"I bet you're hungry, though, aren't you?"  A table formed in front of him, fully furnished with a tablecloth, plates, and silverware.  "You meatbags have to eat and all that, right?"

Dipper looked at the setting and back up at Bill, his expression untrusting.  "What is this?"

Bill waved him off again as he took a seat across from Dipper.  (Not really a seat, he was floating in the air, but he had an ankle over his knee, so close enough.)  "Don't want you passing out again, Pine Tree."

"I can't feel my legs."

"Don't worry about that."

"What should I be worried about?"

Bill rubbed at where a chin would be if he had one.  "Probably all the other things I plan on doing to you."

Dipper's eyes widened.  The casualness of the statement had him more concerned than anything else.

"What do you... what are you planning, Bill?"

Bill ignored him.  A plate was suddenly in front of him, with what looked like a steak.  He looked at it, glaring at it.  "I'm not hungry," he said without looking up.

"Don't lie," came the response, too close for comfort.  It felt like it was in his brain, and when he looked up, Bill was gone. 

He startled when he felt a finger glide down his jaw.  He turned to look, his eyes falling on a strange combination of Bill's triangle in place for a head on a tall human body.  The hand that touched him was dark skinned and large fingers.  He wore a well fitted dress shirt and golden patterned vest that wrapped along his lithe body well.  He stared wide at him, the only reaction he could manage at the sight.  There had never been a part of him that related Bill to anything human, so seeing the stark contrast between the narrative in his mind and the being in front of him had him in almost a moment of awe.

Dipper didn't need to see a grin to know the expression Bill conveyed with his one eye.  It was beyond his smugness, it was condescending in its arrogance.  He had caught his attention, and he knew it.

"You need to eat."

"My hands are tied."

Bill gave a mirthful laugh.  One of Dipper's hands freed itself from the leather straps.

"Go on," Bill urged.

Dipper stared at the meat, his brows furrowed.  "Why should I trust you?"

"Pine Tree, I have had seven years to kill you," Bill said.  "If that was what I really wanted, then I would have done it long ago."

"Why didn't you?"

"Again, not what I wanted."  His voice had a hint of irritation to it.  "Try to keep up, would you?"

"What do you want, then?"

"That's the question indeed, isn't it?"  He reached over, placing a fork in Dipper's hand.  "But later.  You need to get some of that strength you've been wasting.  I'm more fond of your fighting spirit and all."

Dipper twirled the fork absently, not sure what to do.  He couldn't ask for Bill to taste anything, that didn't make sense.  He could probably drink acid as a casual beverage and eat nails just because he was bored.  He sighed.  He was hungry, he couldn’t deny that.  But not just that, he was thirsty, too.

"...water."

"Hmm?"

"Water," he repeated, this time louder.  He placed the fork down.  "Humans need both water and food.  Water, moreso."

Bill shrugged, a gesture that seemed odd seeing it with shoulders.  "If you insist."  With a wave of his hand, there was a Grecian looking cup set next to his plate.  "Drink up, Pine Tree."  He patted his shoulder, leaving his side to sit across from him once more (still with no real seat).

There was still some hesitance, but finally his thirst got the better of him.  Dipper took a cautious sip from the cup, holding it in his mouth before the feel of the cold liquid was too much for him.  He greedily took the rest of the water, no care anymore, his need to no longer feel parched more important.  When he was finished, he put it down, staring at it for a long moment.

"Satisfied yet that it's not poisoned?"

"...for now."  There was a long pause.  "Can... can I have more?"

Bill snickered.  "Of course."

The cup was refilled before his eyes.  He took another sip but stopped himself from guzzling the full thing.  He set it down in favour to pick up the fork again.  He poked at the meat, eyeing it for a moment.  "What is it?"

"Does it matter?"

He supposed it wasn't true.  And he was hungry.  He was feeling light headed, and he assumed it was from the hunger and dehydration, but he had thought the water would assuage it some.  Maybe eating would take care of it.  He hated the sting in his thighs, though.

He started to eat, slowly at first, but soon enough, he was gobbling the steak.  He could feel Bill staring at him intently, but he couldn't care less at the moment.  All he wanted to do was fill his stomach.

Bill laughed.  "Do you like it?"

Anything could have tasted good to him.  He could have had raw rat and it would have been divine.  This... this was rare, not a way he liked things cooked, but beggars can't be choosers.  He just wanted to eat.

"I thought you would."

He wasn't really paying attention.  He was too focused on the meat in his mouth, how delicious it was.  Once past his initial stage to just eat, when he could finally really taste it, it was wonderful.  There was nothing in way of seasoning, but it was like pork but a slightly different texture.

"You need to get used to it."

His tone was off, there was too much glee.  It took a moment, but it finally clicked.  Dipper looked back up at Bill.

"What do you mean, get used to it?"

Bill said nothing, but Dipper knew he was grinning.

Dipper twitched, feeling a sudden need to run, but he couldn’t feel his legs.  The straps were too tight.

"Loosen the straps, Bill."

"I took them off long ago."

Dipper choked, his brain suddenly working on a panic.  He used his arm to push away from the table and look down.  Only half a scream left his mouth before he could feel his lips sealing up, a zipping sound coming as he was silenced.

"Calm down," Bill said, his tone commanding.  He lost his playfulness, his eye glaring.  "There's no need to be upset."

Dipper screamed his disagreement against the zipper.

Bill shushed him with a gesture.  "What I take," he said, his best tone mocking tone, "I can give."

There was another sting and a warm sensation, and when Dipper looked down again, his legs were back.

He growled against his binding, glaring at his captor.  Bill looked unperturbed.

"I told you I had no want to kill you."

Dipper reached up, grabbing the pull on the zipper (he had assumed it would be there, why wouldn't it be?), and unzipped his lips.  "What the fu-!?"

"Language, Pine Tree," Bill interrupted, his normal tone returning.

Dipper took a deep breath.  He wanted to scream.  He wanted to punch him in his eye.  He wanted to throw up.  "Why?"

Bill shrugged.  "Because it bothers you."

"Of course it bothers me!"

"Well, I didn't have anyone else to feed to you, since, you know, you have no one."

Dipper was shocked into silence at the statement.  He knew it to be true, he didn't have anyone.  But it was still a new concept, something he hadn't yet fully processed, and here this monster was, saying it in a casual tone.

"Wait, that's not entirely true."  Bill reached into his vest and pulled out something gold.  When Dipper was to look at it, he knew full well what it was.

"Grunkle Ford!"

Bill looked at it for only a moment before aiming his one eyed gaze solely on Dipper.  "Yup, good ol' Sixer here, been keeping me company all this time while I've been waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to be alone!" he shouted with almost cheer.

"Why... why..."  He didn't know what question to ask first.  There were so many that came to him, and some he didn't even know if he wanted the answer to.

"Why me?" he finally got out.

Bill sat back in his fictitious seat, playing with the tiny statue.  "Sixer was fine, quite entertaining when we first met."  He scratched his back with it.  "But you, mm, there was always something more interesting about you."

"Excuse me if I don't feel flattered by that."

The dark deity snickered.  "You just have never been doted on by someone like me, you'll come to appreciate it."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"As we were discussing," Bill brought the attention back to the idol in his fingers.  "I've been waiting for to be on your own."

"Well, then technically, if that's Ford, I'm not—"

The sound of the statue being crushed between Bill's fingers was liken to bones breaking.

The chair scrapped as it fell back from how fast Dipper stood, grasping for the now broken statue.

He could have sworn there was a grin on Bill's face as he finished grinding the gold between his fingers.

"And now?"

Dipper could not speak.  His mouth hung open as he stared wide eyed at the almost dust figurine of his Great Uncle.  He was the last one, the last person in his life that he didn't even know he still had, that was taken from him before he could even process an attempt to save him.

He was alone.  Truly alone.  There was no one else left.

Dipper couldn't stop the tears that came.  He didn't care that Bill's eye was watching, that he was in front of his worst enemy, he couldn't help the weight that fell on him.  He had been alone before he walked into this room, but then that fiend had put it in front of him, that he could possibly have someone back, all to have it ripped away from him again.  Something about it hit him hard, a truth that he hadn't actually processed yet, and was being thrown on him too quickly.

He only vaguely heard the purring sound coming from the monster.  He didn't instantly recognise the sound of footsteps coming closer, having never expected it from the normally floating triangle.  He had buried his face in his hands, trying to control the sobs that came.  He started at the feel of fingers in his tangled, curled mess of hair, but it didn't immediately halt his tears.  It wasn't until the fingers start to dig into his scalp that he thought to pull away, but by then, his head was being forced back.

Dipper gasped as he felt an all too rough tongue on his cheek.  He had to keep his eyes closed, worried that it might breach over his eye, otherwise he would satiate his curiosity of where the muscle was coming from.

"You're leaking, Pine Tree," Bill whispered into his mind.

"Please, Bill," he begged.  He didn't know what he expected to accomplish with the plea, he didn't even know what he was pleading for, but it still left his lips.

Bill hummed.  "It's been a lot today, hasn't it?"

Dipper simply whined in response.

Fingers ran through his hair again.  "Come, then."  He pulled on his hair, not hard but not gentle either.  Dipper had to follow, though his legs felt like jello when he did.  They still weren't his and walking even the few steps that Bill led him felt like being on needles.

"Stop," he breathed, his strength failing him.  He stumbled, falling into the bizarrely present arms of the monster deity.

"But we've barely started," Bill responded.  An arm wrapped around his shoulder.  "And now we have so long together, you might want to save that strength."

Dipper whimpered into his chest.

Bill laughed.  "I'm sure that wit will return to you after some rest."

He couldn't even think of a response.  He was too tired, too exhausted after everything.  Later, he would retaliate and fight back, but tonight, he had no will to.  Even Bill knew that.  So  he didn't struggle when he was picked up, he didn't even move when he was carried away, or even ask when he was placed in something resembling a bed.  That was for tomorrow.

Tonight, he slept.


	3. Getting Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Dipper's time with Bill is far from what one would call pleasant. And then things go downhill from there as Bill catches him in a personal moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vore mentioned in this chapter, and there is masturbation, with a mention of oral and fingering.

The next few weeks were horrible.  Bill continued his torment, between only feeding him bits of his own flesh and turning him into random objects just to reassemble him (not always correctly, either).  He was subjected to whatever whims the triangle was in the mood for.

He didn't eat at first, only drinking the water provided for him.  But by the end of the second day, he was starving again, and couldn't help himself.  Bill just watched him, hand holding the corner of his triangle as his eye kept on him with subtle interest.

There was no talking to him during those days.  He had some of his usual quips, and definitely puns about whatever nightmare he unleashed on his captive, but otherwise he was relatively quiet when it came to Dipper's questions.  He somehow turned every question into a joke or just silenced him with some bizarre way to lock up his lips.

By day four, he didn't know how much more he could take.  Bill was giving him nothing he could use to possibly save himself, and he couldn't even tell where he was.  He was confined to a set of several rooms that he was allowed to explore, but he found no doors other than the ones that led between them.

Were his host any different, or even the situation vastly not the one it was, he would have enjoyed the hospitality.  Besides the torment he was enduring, he was actually being well taken care of.  The bed he slept in (like a log after a long day of being 8bit or scaled or whatever was Bill's thrill of the day) was large and soft and full of blankets and pillows.  The rooms were like that of a rich manor, filled with art (almost all of it of the egotistic triangle) and all the joys he once had before the apocalypse was given to him, like video game systems, music, and even a library with plenty of blank paper and pens.

He was confused why he was being awarded such amenities.  He was a captive, wasn't he?  Shouldn't he be thrown into a cage or something like that?  Were it not for the torment he was suffering, he would have thought he was a VIP at a fancy hotel or something.

Bill was there almost all the time at the start.  He would wake up Dipper with different screams of humans and animals (some of them sounded like his family members, something he had to ignore lest he cry in front of him again).  He would then stay with him, both to shave off pieces of his body to feed to him and then play around with him.  He would stay well past the time Dipper was too exhausted to take any more, and then he would end the day by tucking him into bed.  It was a disturbing gentle gesture after the things he put the human through, but by then, his mind was too jumbled to really understand the implications of it.  He almost always fell asleep the moment the covers were put over him.

However, as the weeks went on (he thought they were weeks, there were no clocks or any other ways to tell time, he was just measuring it by when he went to sleep), Bill stopped focusing on him as much.  He would only show up for a limited time during the day, to give him food and drink, and then he would do only some minimal amount of torture before he would just leave.  He'd come back sporadically, something that messed with the internal clock Dipper had started getting used to.  He had come accustomed to Bill waking him up and putting him to sleep to the point his day was off when Bill wasn't there all the time.

Sometimes Bill would just hang around.  He would give Dipper his substance and then just... stay there.  He would either float around Dipper's shoulder as he read or wrote something, or he would take on his weird human-monster form, and sit in a chair, doing his own thing, like Dipper wasn't even there.  It was odd and almost domestic in a sense.  He wasn't going to complain, not when Bill was giving him something of a break from his madness, but he didn't know what to make of it.  And Bill was still avoiding his questions.

Bill was only once and again feeding him his own body parts by the end of the first month.  Dipper had explained to him about needing other kinds of foods to keep healthy (which Bill had insisted was his intention with him, so he should be caring about that), but in all honesty, his shift to other food sources was more likely to the youth's waning surprised and disgusted reaction to it.  It was how he got Bill to stop most anything: if he could feign indifference, the chaotic beast was no longer interested.

It was about the only thing that kept him going now, to thwart his attempts at making him feel uncomfortable.  He had hoped that maybe somewhere that would give him the edge to overcome his captor, but instead, he had shifted to the domestic attitude.  This was even more distressing for Dipper because he found he had no way to react to this.  He couldn't gauge if he was just luring him into a false sense of security or if he was just... bored.

And then came the days where Bill was gone.  He filled that day with reading.  Food eventually just materialised in a fridge that just came out of nowhere, and he had no choice but to eat it.  It was a weird slime substance that tasted like fish left in the sun, but he ate it still, assuming that the triangle was actually watching.  It was difficult to get down, but his determination to not let himself be bothered by his antics kept on.

But this went on for five days.  Bill was nowhere to be found, not when he woke up, any of the time he spent in the library or game room, or when he finally tucked himself in to sleep.  He didn't really mind at first, enjoying the break from him.  And he would do so until the triangle came back.

However, when the days dragged on, he found a nagging want for his return.  It wasn't that he really wanted his presence or any of that horrible attention, but it would have been better than being alone.  And he was so alone.  Those moments he was by himself, the weight of reality fell on him, and it was crushing how alone he really was.  No matter how he tried to distract himself, it kept creeping back into his mind.

He found himself crying during those days, off and on.  No matter what he did, he couldn't shake the memories of all he lost, going through their deaths in order, first with Grunkle Ford being turned into a statue to William's screaming.  Or should the last be the sound of Bill crushing that statue?  He couldn't take it, and the thoughts crept in again, the ones of giving up.  After all, what could he do?  He was stuck in these rooms, no chance of escape, despite all of his attempts, and he was alone.  And all the while, he found his thoughts swirling back to one thing:

Dipper wanted Bill to come back.

He hated himself for thinking it, but at this point, any attention was better than no attention.

He had the thought more than once, but easy to ignore, opting to force either a book in his face, a game controller in his fingers, or memories of better times with the ones he loved.  But as the days went on, it became a stronger and stronger thought, to where it was hard to push aside.

One night (he still assumed night, it was still impossible to tell), as he laid down for sleep, he stared at the way-too detailed tapestry on the wall at the foot of his bed of the monstrous triangle.  He had been avoiding the paintings and art pieces up until then, not wanting to be reminded of the atrocious thoughts that kept coming through his mind.  He even went as far as to turn the portraits around and hide the statues away so that one eye wasn't looking at him anymore.  He just couldn't take it anymore.

But Dipper found himself staring at the visage, truly unable to help himself.  He narrowed his eyes at it, turn between his emotion of justified anger and creeping want.

"Idiot," he growled at the painting.  "Come back so I can yell in your face."

For some reason, he thought the image of Bill would come to life and say some terrible pun.  He almost felt angry that it didn't.

With a huff, Dipper turned away from the painting, pulling the blanket up and around his body as he forced himself to sleep.

 

::~**~::

It was just another day in the tunnels.  Dipper had helped out in the 'fields' all morning, helping with many of the herbs more than anything, for his experiments with old school medicinal concoctions.  He had taken some samples with him to do some work on.  After all the time spent in the plants, he headed back to the subway car he had decked out for himself.  It was actually two together, one he kept his books and experiments in, the other like a tiny house for himself.

Well, not himself.

As he walked into the tram, he was greeted by the sight of his boyfriend sitting at the table, reading a book.  William looked up when he heard the door closing, and a gentle smile crossed his lips.

"You're back early," he said.

Dipper shrugged, smiling.  "Not much to do, you know?"

William put the book down as Dipper approached, opening his arms up to his boyfriend as he set his things on the table and sat in his lap.  They kissed in greeting, Dipper putting his arm around his shoulders to balance himself.  William kissed him a few more times on the cheek and neck.

"Bring back anything interesting?"

Dipper hummed contently at the attention.  "Just some skunkweed and peppermint."

"That stuff smells terrible."

"That's the point, the eye-bats get distracted by it."  He gasped when William nipped right under his chin.  "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a break," William said softly.  "You've been working hard lately."

Dipper chuckled at one particular kiss under his ear.  "Yeah, well, we need to—"

"You need to turn off that brain of yours for a night."  William's hand crept up Dipper's shirt, causing the young adult to shudder at the feel of his warm skin.

"You like that brain of mine," Dipper just barely managed before a hiss left him in response to William's teeth.  He was getting more insistent, bites deepening with little murmurs across his skin.

"I like other things of yours, too," William retorted in a husky tone.

The sentence made Dipper blush.  He did anytime his boyfriend alluded to such things.  They had never really been intimate, aside from heavy makeouts and the occasion dry hump.

But William's hand was making its way up his thigh, and he could feel his face burning.

"William," he whispered.

There was a chuckle before he adjusted Dipper, picking him up (with some difficulty, he was only so much stronger than Dipper) and carrying him the short distance to their bed.  He dropped him down unceremoniously, leaning over him.

"You're in a mood," Dipper said, his voice teasing.  He wrapped his arms behind his neck, pulling him in as William adjusted on top of him, knees on either side of his thighs.

He snickered, a low and gentle tone that he could only ever associate with his boyfriend.  "Can't I just be happy to see you?"

Dipper leaned up to kiss him.  "I'm happy to see you, too."

There weren't many more words exchanged between them as they continued to kiss.  Everything was getting more heated, their tongues tracing each other's and teeth exploring.  It wasn't long before clothes were being removed, and William's soft lips were moving down his body.

Dipper moaned as William lightly gripped at his hardening length.  He curled his fingers around the base and started to pump slowly as he nipped at his hip.  Dipper twitched a little, instinctively flinching at the pressure.  William chuckled against his skin and turned to look up at his boyfriend.

"You okay?"

Dipper bit his lip before nodding.  "Yeah," he said in a hushed tone.  "It feels... yeah, no, please..."

William laughed again.  "Please?"

"Please don't stop," Dipper answered after a hesitation.

William smiled wide and genuine.  "Whatever you want, love."

With that, he dipped his head down and took the head of Dipper's member into his mouth.  He groaned, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as he enjoyed the attention of his boyfriend.  He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this before, and he wasn't going to stop him now.

Dipper curled his fingers into William's multi-coloured hair, only lightly pulling as his head moved up and down his length with varying pressures.  William had wound one leg around his leg, holding him in place.  His other hand, Dipper didn't feel at first until there was something slick poking at his entrance.  He gasped, but forced himself to relax.

They'd talked about it.  They had both agreed they were ready for this step, and after three years, it seemed the only logical jump in their relationship.  So he didn't stop William as he slowly inched in, but instead spread his thighs more.  William hummed around him, sending a wonderful sensation up his body.  After a few more moments, there was another finger inside of him.  He let out another gasp, but the pressure didn't hurt, just felt odd.  As he moved his fingers in and out, spreading them somewhat as he did.

There was a pleasure that came from the mix of the two actions.  He had one hand in William's hair and another gripping onto the blanket as he groaned at the feelings.  He was worried, though, he was getting close already, and he didn't want to come just yet.

"W-william..." he begged.  "Please, I need you..."

Slowly, William raised his head to look Dipper in the eyes.  "You sure?"

Dipper nodded.  "Y-yeah..."  He leaned up, taking William's face in his hands as he brought him in for a kiss.  "I'm sure."

William nodded.  He scooted up the bed, taking his fingers out and staying between Dipper's legs as he came to be chest to chest with him.  Dipper moved, wrapping around him and connecting his ankles behind his back.  Their lips met again in a passionate kiss.  Dipper could feel the head against his backside.

"Will," he whispered in between their breaths.  "Will, I want you."

Dipper could feel the shudder that went through William's body.  He whispered something into his ear, but it came out as a jumble.

"What?"

Dipper's eyes popped open suddenly to a scene much different.  He was staring up at the yellow glowing of the ceiling full of triangles and eyes. 

A dream.  It had been a dream.  And of course it had: William and he had never gotten that far when his boyfriend was still alive.  It was a disappointment, but not as much of one as waking up to this horrible gilded cage instead of next to William.

But the evidence of the night time visage was still there, aching below his pyjama shorts.  With a groan, he rubbed at it briefly, willing it to go away.  He had woken up some 'mornings' with the issue, but for the most part it had been a natural thing, not spurred by any particular thoughts or dreams, so it was easy to make vanish.  It was especially simple with Bill, a situation he definitely didn't want to address with the chaos beast.

However, Bill hadn't been there for almost a week now.  He had been absent with the only time his presence was mentioned was the return of food and drink for him.  And his erection wasn't seeming to wilt easily enough.

Dipper sat up for a moment, to look around the bedroom, just to make sure he was really alone.  A sigh left him as he fell heavily back onto his pillow.  Why shouldn't he?  He was alone, and it helped with stress.  Not that he did it often for stress, but the few and far between times had been helpful.

He pulled his pants down just enough to reveal his still full member.  He wrapped his fingers around himself, hissing at the feeling.  He couldn't remember the last time he had touched himself, and it was something he never got to fully experience with William. 

He let out a breath as he moved down his shaft.  He threw his arm over his face, covering his eyes as he started to pump his erection at a slow pace.  His mouth was open with little sounds coming from him as he went on.  He entertained thoughts of William, letting his mind finish out the dream.

Dipper spread his legs a little, imagining his boyfriend still between them.  He lifted his hips some, but he could only go so far off the bed.  His breaths came out a little harshly as he continued to move, his mind wandering.  He could envision William over him, positioning himself just at his entrance.

He bit his lip as the pressure in his lower half built up.  He removed his hand from his eyes briefly, to lick at his finger, entertaining the thought of putting it in himself as he finished out his fantasy.

Dipper stopped midstroke when he saw a large eye staring down at him.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself."

"B-bill!"

Dipper went for his pants to pull them up, but a force kept his hands exactly where they were.

"Don't stop on my account, Pine Tree," Bill said in an even tone.  He was in his triangle form.  He floated down to land in between Dipper's legs.  He may not have his mouth, but he could sense the smugness from him.  Dipper found he couldn't move.

"I'm not- no!"  He struggled against the invisible force.

"Come on, now," Bill urged on.  "There's no shame in it.  I'd thought you would have done it by now anyway."  He reached out and touched his slightly wilting member with his small black hand.  Dipper flinched at the almost burning touch.

"If you hear how you humans talk, I'd have thought you would be doing this all along."

"Stop it!"

Bill paused.  "Then finish."

Dipper stared at him wide eyed.  His face was red, both mortified and angry.  "No, of course not!"

The small hand grew, matching the size of a normal sized human's hand.  It wrapped almost expertly around him, encompassing almost half of his length.

"It's you or me, Pine Tree."

Dipper bit his lip.  "You can't be serious."

He hissed when his hand moved up and down.

"What were you dreaming about, hmm?"

Dipper attempted a growl, but it came out as a groan when a thumb graced over his slit.  "Bill, stop it!"

"Was it Red?"

Dipper shut his eyes tight and bit his lip, trying to ignore the sounds that wanted to leave him.  Despite himself, his lower half was responding to Bill's hand, coming fully back to life.  "N-no..."

"Oh, really?"  His hand was still moving, but he looked almost bored.  "I figured you two would have eventually had a thing."

He turned his head, doing what he could not to look at the triangle as he continued to stroke his member.  He hated this, he hated the way his body was reacting, he hated the way Bill was touching him, hated that it felt like the monster actually knew what he was doing.

He hated the part of him that was enjoying it.

"B-bill..." he whined, still not looking at him.  He bit at the pillow next to his head, groaning into the down.  "S-stop..."

"Who was it then?" Bill went on, tone even.  "What were you about to do, Pine Tree?  You were going to do more than this..."

A whimper caught in his throat.

"Was it this?"

Dipper gasped when he felt something inside of him.  He snapped his head to look at the triangle, his eyes shocked.  "Don't- don't do that!"

A snicker rang out through the room.  Dipper hissed as he was invaded deeper by the intruding finger.  Bill was still stroking him, eye intent on Dipper's face.

"Was this what you were thinking about?"  The finger moved in and out of him.  "Or was it...?"

"Please, no..."  Dipper could not handle much more.  The pressure had been building inside to begin with, but what could happen if he didn't answer?  Bill wouldn't...  No...

"I'll finish."

Bill's eye narrowed, but his amusement was still there.  "What if I want to finish it now?"

Dipper glared at the glowing monster.  He laughed again.

"Tell me your dream," he commanded.  He stroked again, making a few pumps in and out of him.  "While you finish."

"Shouldn't you know?"

"Not as good as hearing you saying it."

Dipper groaned, a mix of pleasure and unbelief.  "Do I have to?"

"Either that or me."

"Fine."

The hands left him completely.  Bill sat back in between his knees, eye amused.  The force holding his arms let go.

Dipper sighed.  He grabbed a tentative hold on himself, starting a slow pace with added pressure.  He was already almost there, so he was grateful it wouldn't take much longer.

"That wasn't all you were going to do, now was it?"

There was a growl, but he knew he had to.  If he didn't do it, Bill would have resumed his assault on his all too eager body.  He put two fingers into his mouth, licking around them and getting enough saliva on them.  It wasn't the first time he had fingered himself, so it wasn't like it was something new to him.  Being watched wasn't even that new.  Though they had never been truly intimate, there had been a few things they did.  Mutual masturbation had been something they'd done more than once.

Dipper took that thought in to account when he lifted his hips up so he could get a finger into himself.  He just imagined William instead, ebony skin glistening from sweat as he joined him in the efforts of pleasure.  For a long moment, he forgot Bill was even there, forcing his visage out in favour of his boyfriend.

"What are you thinking of, Pine Tree?"

Dipper hummed.  "William," he breathed out as he stroked himself.  He moved his finger in and out, thankful that he could already feel himself getting close again.

"Who is that?" Bill asked with interest.

"My..."  Dipper hesitated.  Some part of him was holding back, there was an egging feeling that he shouldn't tell the triangle.

A hand lightly touched his inner thigh.  "Pine Tree..."

"...boyfriend," he said through a shudder.  He kept moving, still trying to ignore the triangle.  "I was dreaming about my boyfriend."

"Did it start out this way?"  The hand lingered, but at least he didn't move any further.

"No, it was the subway, it was at home...  I came back, I wanted to work on something, but..."  His breath hitched when he hit himself at a particular place with his finger.  He inserted a second one, trying to match his pace with his hand.

"But?"

"He wanted to...  We started to... You know..."

"Tell me," Bill said in a low tone.

Dipper had closed his eyes again, still thinking of William in front of him.  He could remember how he looked in those moments, how concentrated he was on Dipper's face, when Dipper was too busy looking at his lower half.

"He wanted to make love..."

Bill made an intrigued hum.  "That sounds surprising to you."

"We never..."  His breath caught in his throat.  He was about to burst.

"Really?  Why?"

Dipper let out a whine.  "Bill, I'm going to—"

"Why didn't you ever lay with your boyfriend, Pine Tree?"

The question was ignored as Dipper let out a loud cry.  He came undone as he released over his hand.  In one last defiant thought, he moved himself, getting some of the spray on the triangle still watching him.

There was a scoff.  He opened his eyes to see Bill wiping his angular face off with a handkerchief.

"I suppose I deserve that."

Dipper laid his head back on the pillow, breathing heavily.  His orgasm was intense as well as awkward, and left him tired even after having just woken up.

There was a moment of silence aside from Dipper's heavy breaths.  He closed his eyes again, not wanting to look at Bill or even really talk to him.  Thankfully, the triangle hadn't opened his mouth... or whatever.

When the quiet stretched on too long, Dipper sat up.  He scanned the room, but there was no triangle to be found.

He was alone again.

Dipper sighed.  He fell back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.

"Bastard."


	4. Three Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awkward day after...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was some time getting this up. I actually had a chapter written from when I first started doing this, but that was back when this was supposed to be something I just shared with my wife. When I started posted this, I realised I had to make a plot, so I had to change some things, ha. Hope you all still enjoy it!  
> Also, I'm taking a poll right now on my tumblr (sushisama.tumblr.com) for ideas for Billdip keychains I would like to make. Please check it out, reblog with your option if you can, or you can leave it here if you want. Thanks to anyone that helps! <3

Bill was not there when Dipper got up, something he was more than grateful for.

He got some respite from him the 'morning' after the event.  He had gone back to sleep after a long while, and when he woke up, he was quick to the bathroom to wash off.  He had hoped a lengthy time in the shower would wash away not just the sweat and dried semen, but the look of Bill watching him from his mind.

He would only be so lucky, though.

The entire day, Dipper tried to distract himself.  He played games, he wrote in his journal, he found random things to clean.  But none of it mattered.  His thoughts kept rotating around and around, and would eventually come back to his question:

Why had Bill wanted to watch him so badly?

He had tried to explain it away as irrelevant.  He tried to tell himself that it wasn't anything to keep fretting about, because more than likely it was just some random thread of thought Bill was going on about.  When he rationalised it, there was no reason for Bill to have any genuine interest in human physiology.  He had simply caught Dipper in the act, and he had the notion to humiliate him, as he had time and time before.

There couldn't be anything more to it than that.

By the time he had what he considered dinner (still hard to tell without a clock), the thoughts had finally subsided.  He had been doing his usual routine when Bill wasn't there to torment him, but now he could do it without the nagging memory of the previous evening.  He was able to pick up his journal and actually write in it, not the mindless scribbles that he had put down earlier in the day.

He found himself in the library Bill had made him, among the shelves of books that included so much about the paranormal and supernatural, and also ones he assumed was from other dimensions and worlds by the strange writing in them.  The room was set up like one you would see in the rich man's mansion in old movies.  It was open, walls filled with books, an area for a writing desk that kept Dipper's writing implements, a fireplace full of changing flames that either looked real or floating galaxies amongst other things, and a sturdy roundtable between two large arm chairs.  The décor was ostentatious at best, most black and yellow with golden accents everywhere.

And there was a large portrait of Bill himself over the fireplace.  Of course.

It was in front of that painting, the one that ominously stared down at him no matter where he was in the room, no matter how he tried to turn it around only for it to be facing forward again a moment later, that he sat in one of the plush lounge chairs.  He had scooted the roundtable close to him, two books propped up so he could easily look at them while he wrote furiously in another one of his journals.

Dipper had found himself curious about one of the books written in some non-human dialect.  He had found another book with a similar cover and same pictures inside, but written in English, and he was using it as a sort of Rosetta Stone.  It may not have been an actual duplication of the book, but it gave him something to do, something to keep his mind busy.

It was so successfully distracting of a project, that when he finally took a moment to rest his eyes and stretch, was the first time he had noticed the monstrous triangle was in the opposite chair.  He startled at the sight, dropping his pen as he backed himself into the cushion of the chair.  He had no idea when Bill had shown up.  He had been quiet, much quieter than usual.  Normally, he announced his presence loudly with some sort of comment about how much Dipper had to have missed him, but not this time.

"B-Bill," Dipper said more out of surprise than anything else.

"Calm down, now, Pine Tree," he said smoothly.  He looked up from what he was doing, his triangle on top of his human body, his interest almost lacking when he turned it to the human.  "I'm trying to work."

Confused, Dipper turned to what Bill had been doing.  In his hands was an ethereal looking image that upon closer inspection was a map of the world.  Different parts were lit up with different colours, but the majority of it was yellow.  The different areas were independent of each other, and Bill was holding up the western part of the United States.

"What are you doing?" Dipper ventured to ask.

Bill held a hand to his eye, which briefly turned into a mouth as he made a shushing noise.  Dipper stared at him for a moment before scoffing.  Sure that Bill wasn't going to answer him, he reached down to pick up his pen and resumed his research of the language in the book.

Some time went by, and for the most part, they were both silent as they worked.  Dipper would look up here and again, to watch Bill analyse the map.  He moved bits of the world around, tapping areas to change their colour, and slowly there was less and less yellow.  As he went about his task, he would randomly hum in a tone that sounded oddly like a Theremin.

It was eerie how quiet Bill was being.  There had been times before where he had done this, just sitting with him, but today felt different.  He was tense, waiting for Bill to do or say something, but it never came.  He seemed far more invested in what he was doing than to even look up once at Dipper.

Something about that sat ill with Dipper.  Other times Bill had sat with him, whether it be in the library or even when he was playing games, he would eventually speak to him.  He would ask what he was doing, ask about why humans played those games, just participate in his existence once in a while.

But now Dipper felt almost ignored.  He had gone a long while being quiet, but after some time, the silence was too much for him.  He tried to engage Bill in conversation, asking about what he was doing or even try to talk about his translating, but it was met with more shushing or completely nothing. 

Dipper felt an irritation at this.  Bill had been gone for a lengthy amount of time, to show up at a vulnerable time for him, and now he wouldn't even give him the benefit of a _conversation_.  And not just that, he would not even give him a way to make one.  He wasn't even sure what to say to him, what he would want to talk about.  It wasn't about what either one of them was doing, or even when he said he was thinking of playing a game, Bill had not even flinched.

Dipper didn't even know why he wanted his attention so badly, but _he did_.  He wanted to be acknowledged, to be noticed.

He wanted to feel he wasn't alone.

He went through what all he could talk about in his head.  He wasn't interested in anything they were doing, clearly, or anything that Dipper might do.  He had thought catering to Bill's life would get him, but even asking what he had been doing seemed to fall on deaf ears.  Which confused him, because Bill normally loved talking about himself and the horrors he was spreading around the world.  Maybe he wanted to talk about something he would find interesting.  Even more interesting than the torment he did on all the innocents of the world.

Which left his interest in Dipper.

With a sigh, Dipper looked up at Bill, a reluctant look about him.  "What was last night about?"

Finally, Bill looked up from his map, his intent squarely on Dipper.

"What do you mean, Pine Tree?"

Dipper scowled at him.  "You know what I mean."  He didn't want to say it, it was bad enough that he was acknowledging it.  "Why did you...?"

The look in Bill's eye lightened, and he could sense the grin that would be there if he had lips.  "Do you really want to know?"

"...not exactly," he admitted.

Bill hummed.  "Why don't we make a deal?"

"What kind of deal?"

"I know you've been wanting to ask a lot of questions," he said.  "Why don't we make a deal for some answers?"

"What kind of deal?"

Bill rubbed at his nonexistence chin.  "Why not five answers, and I get to do one thing to you without objection."

Dipper raised a brow.  That sounded suspicious and considering the one question, he wasn't sure he trusted what the 'one thing' would be.  But maybe he could still turn this around.  If he worded the deal right, he could get more out of it than Bill would.

"Three answers," he overruled, "and one thing I ask for-"

"Hopefully not a way out," Bill interjected, bemused.

"-no, not that, I know better."  Dipper closed his journal, setting it to the side.  "Just something that will make it easier for me here."  He took in a deep breath.  "Also..."

"Yes?"

"...whatever the thing is you want, nothing... um, well..."

Bill gave him an intent look, urging him on.

"...sexual."

Bill chuckled.  "Don't worry, Pine Tree," he cooed, voice smooth, "that's not what I want right now."

Dipper ignored the implications of that statement.

"Do we have a deal?"  Bill extended his arm, lengthening it to be in reach of Dipper.

"Yeah, I guess," Dipper replied as he shook his hand.  The blue flame that engulfed their hands was brief, but felt like burning ice.

"To start us off," Bill said as he retracted his arm, "what did you want?"  He crossed his legs, one ankle on a knee, his elbows on his thighs as he threaded his fingers together.  Again, his eye was heavy as it stared at Dipper.

"A clock."

"A clock?" Bill repeated.

Dipper nodded.  "A clock," he said again.  "It's just... it would make me more comfortable."

Bill seemed to consider this for a long moment.  Finally, he shrugged, lifting a hand to snap his fingers before entwining it again.  In front of Dipper appears a little skull, about a baseball in size.  He flinched at its decoration: it had makeup like it still had skin to do so, large, gaudy dangling earrings, and long hair the same colour as his with a headband.  In the eye sockets were numbers that he could only assume were the time.

He didn't know if the appearance of his sister was meant to be cruel or an oddly thoughtful gift.  Either way, he pushed back the wet that threatening his tearducts, and took the skull, setting it on the journal in his lap.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"Of course," Bill replied, smugness in his tone.  "Now, your questions."

"Right."  Dipper inhaled deeply.  He knew he could ask anything, but there was still a nagging in the back of his mind, wondering about what had transpired before.  Better to get it over with, he figured.

"Why... why did you want me to..."  He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes his closed tightly.  He couldn't look at the triangle and say the words at the same time.  "...why did you want to see me masturbate?"

Or try to participate.  But he didn't want to ask that.

Bill shrugged.  "Curiosity."

Dipper just stared at Bill.  Though he had thought that was one of the factors, he far from thought that would be what Bill actually said about it.  He was expecting it so be more of some comment about humiliating him.

"Curiosity?" Dipper inquired.

The triangle nodded.  "I think it's fascinating, the thought you humans put into such a thing," he went on.  "All of Earth's other species, the ones that do masturbate, they do it because it 'feels good.'  Nothing more to it.  And I know that is part of it, but there's a great deal of you that put more thought into it, that want to be pleased on more levels than physical.

"Otherwise you would not have been thinking of that man, hmm?"

There was something in his tone that gave Dipper a sense of unease.

Dipper wanted to inquire further, ask more specifics of the other species he knew away from Earth, but he was sure it would be held against him.  Instead, he just nodded and decided to move on.

"What are your plans for the Earth?" he asked.  "I mean, I know what you've already done, but that can't be all."

"There's more," Bill answered without hesitation.  "But for now, we're just in a peaceful decade.  Getting the lay of the land, if you will."

Dipper blinked.  The answer made absolutely no sense to him, and Bill's even tone did not hint at if he was being sarcastic or completely serious.  "Peaceful?  This isn't..."  He took in a breath.  "What comes next?"

"Well, I know what I'll be doing, can't say the same for the others."

Dipper's eyes widened.  "What do you mean, the others?  Others who, Bill?"

"You asked your three, Pine Tree," Bill answered.  He stood slowly, his eye narrowed on Dipper.  He stepped forward slowly, and a chill went over him.  "And I think I was liberal with the extra question marks you had."

"Wait, I still—"

Dipper was silenced as something spherical and rubber filled his mouth.  He reached up to it, but was stopped when leather bindings strapped over his wrists.  He fell back as the seat reclined suddenly, his journal and clock falling as more bindings coming to strap him across his chest and legs.  He squirmed and shouted against them, but it fell short and muffled.  He saw Bill descending on him, but his vision was obscured when a large leather sheet was tightened around his head just above the nose.

He continued to scream against the gag, even though it fell on deaf ears as Bill came to sit on his lap.  He felt Bill's hands go up his body, a smooth gesture over his sides and chest until they settled on his shoulder.

"Oh, Pine Tree, calm yourself," he whispered into his ear.  "The more you squirm, the longer this will take."

Dipper screamed again.

"We made a deal," Bill hissed.  "You agreed to this."

That got Dipper to quieten.  He still whimpered, but stopped squirming.  Bill was right, he had agreed.  And no matter what he did, he knew that Bill would inevitably have his way.

"There you go."  His body weight adjusted until it was just barely there.  He still felt the length of Bill's faux body atop him, just light as a feather.

Bill ran a hand over his throat, his manner still gentle.  He tilted Dipper's head back, fully exposing his neck.  And for a long moment, nothing happened.

Dipper yelped when he felt the sharp metal tip just below his Adam's apple.  For a moment he almost struggled again, but he forced himself to calm at the thought of the whatever it was at his throat moving in the wrong way.  He still flinched when the metal seemed to heat up to where it was almost burning, but otherwise calmed other than an occasional whine.

"See, not so bad..." Bill soothed as he continued to move the blade.  "This will be over shortly, as long as you continue to be a good boy..."

A chill ran down his spine at the comment.

It hurt as he went along with the lines he was drawing, but in a way he was grateful for the heat.  He knew that even though it hurt, it would be less likely to get infected.  Not that he thought Bill would let the wound get that way to begin with, but he could still look for some silver lining to all of this.

What felt like an eternity, Bill finally let up.  He made a sound much like a clicking of a tongue, then something like pleased.  Dipper thought he felt something along the wound, like lips, but it was forgotten when the blindfold was removed, along with the rest of his bindings.  He looked the triangle in the eye, glaring.  He exercised his jaw, rotating it as he adjusted to no longer having the gag in his mouth.

"What did you do?"

Bill was standing back, staring at him evenly.  He ignored the question as he eyed his neck, his triangle tilting as he did.  "Good enough for now."

"What do you mean, for now?"

"No more questions, Pine Tree."  He reached to him, running a hand over his throat.  When Dipper went to touch it, he felt a large, gauze bandage over the wound.

Bill stepped back again.  "That's enough for today, don't you think?"  He tapped the clock that was inexplicably on the table, and it read ten PM.  "You sleep well, Pine Tree.  I'll see you soon."

With that, he disappeared.

Dipper was left alone.  And he still didn't know if he preferred that, or the company.


	5. These Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill continues to be evasive about his motives, until he's just being evasive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was slightly hard for me to write. I think I've mentioned it, but when I first started writing this, it was a vent fic that I just shared with my wife. I had no real plot in mind, and the ending part of this was the last part I had written, and last chapter didn't exist nor the first half of this. So filling in the blanks was a little difficult, but necessary for the storyline I've finally come up with.  
> Basically this is an explanation if this chapter seems weird, that's why. Everything after this should be a lot more cohesive. Hope you all still enjoy!  
> And if you would kindly, please read the notes at the end for stuff from my tumblr and a few other things.

Dipper waited until the next day (now that he was sure it was the next day, by the clock's reading [if that was to be trusted, though]) to check what Bill had done to him.  He removed the bandage as the water in the shower warmed up, standing in front of the large mirror in his bathroom.  He loudly groaned at the mark, even if he wasn't really surprised at what he saw. 

He gently graced over the corners of the triangle on the lower part of his neck.  It stung only a little when he got close to the cuts, and he silently wondered how long it would take to heal.  He also hoped that it would not be as obvious when it did. 

Dipper tried to think of something else while he bathed.  He ran a hand over the area to clean it, but when it hurt to do such, he did everything to avoid it afterward.  It made showering awkward.  He would have to probably use the bath for the next couple of days. 

Dipper reached for the loofa, the most relaxing thing he could do during this daily ritual.  He ran the lathered sponge over his body, sighing as he did.  His brow creased when the feel changed, almost too solid in his hand.  He held it out to look at it and shrieked.  He threw it to the other side of the shower, as he backed himself into the corner. 

"Bill!" 

The triangle-shaped loofa unfolded itself, solidifying in the usual form of the monster.  His hat sloped a little under the stream of water, but he seemed not to notice it as he floated over to Dipper.  "Little jumpy, aren't you?" 

"Get out!" Dipper hissed. 

Bill shrugged.  "Why are you so upset?" His eye roamed over Dipper's body before settling on his face.  "I've seen this before." 

Dipper's face felt on fire.  "...no, not all of it..."  It came out almost as a question.  Bill may not have always been present in his sight, but that didn't mean he wasn't secretly watching.  The idea of the monster spying on him when he didn't know it made a chill go down his spine. 

"Enough of it, then," Bill corrected. 

This didn't ease Dipper. 

"What do you want?" 

Bill came close again, his eye focused more on his neck.  "Wanted to see how this," he ran a finger along the edge of the abrasion, "was doing." 

Dipper swatted at his hand.  He didn't like the sting that his touch brought just as much as he didn't like his proximity.  He quickly turned the knobs to the shower, leaving the floating being as he hurried out to get a towel.  There were still some suds left on him, but he far from cared as he began to dry himself off. 

"No need to be modest," Bill cooed as he wandered out from the shower stall.  "I think I did a good job, don't you?" 

Dipper subconsciously touched his throat, but he winced and pulled his hand away.  "What was the point?" 

Bill hummed.  "There is a reason."  He floated around the large bathroom, leaving Dipper be as he redressed himself. 

"But you aren't going to tell me, are you?"  Dipper huffed.  He threw on his shirt after buttoning his pants, trying to ignore the triangle as much as he could. 

"In due time, Pine Tree," he replied evenly.  "You'll understand, but only if you want to." 

Dipper sighed.  He ran a hand through his damp hair and down his face.  He stared at himself in the mirror of the vanity, his gaze flicking to the beast once before he went for his toothbrush.  "What does that mean?" he asked as he wet it under the faucet. 

Bill sauntered over to him, growing his human body as he did, and by the time he was right behind Dipper, he was in his half-human form.  A comb materialised in his hand, and Dipper bristled when he started to rake it through his hair as he was brushing his teeth.  The action was almost passive in a way, and that made him more on edge than if he was coming at him with whatever sharp weapon he had used yesterday. 

"It means," Bill said in a calm tone, almost bored tone, "that I'm still waiting to see if it's worth it." 

Dipper finished rinsing, Bill letting him go just so he could spit and finish.  "Waiting for what?" 

Dipper gasped as he was suddenly being lifted and turned and slammed against the mirror.  It wasn't rough enough to crack the surface, but to shock him.  Bill pulled and pushed, tilting his head back, his triangle head moving in on his neck.  Bill's artificial body was in between his legs, leaning over him, and he could feel the heat of the creature.  He struggled at first, but Bill's grip was tight and absolute, and he willed himself to be still, though his whole body was rigid. 

"Bill-" 

"Hold the thought, Pine Tree," he said low. 

Dipper closed his eyes as he felt ghostly fingers over his throat.  There was something cold and wet that rubbed over the symbol.  It was soothing, easing the sting.  There was another moment, and he could feel gauze applied along with adhesive tape to keep it in place. 

Bill lingered over the area for a long moment before he finally pulled away.  "There."  Bill leaned away, his eye still focused on the area long before moving away from him. 

Dipper touched the bandage gingerly.  "...I can do that on my own, you know," he muttered. 

Bill chuckled.  "If you insist," he retorted.  He ran a hand through his hair.  "I'll leave you to it, then."  He straightened up completely, taking a step back. 

Dipper blinked.  He bit his lip, not wanting the words to come, but they still did: "Where are you going?" 

Bill's eye looked somewhat intrigued.  "Why do you ask?" 

Dipper was taken aback by the question.  He wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't know how to answer it right off.  "No reason," he finally answered. 

The chaos beast stared at him, not saying anything.  "All right then." 

Dipper didn't stop him this time as he faded away.  He touched his throat again.  He chewed his lip. 

He ignored the thought that he should have asked him to stay. 

There was an odd routine that happened after that.  Bill would come in the mornings, under the guise of checking up on him.  He would inspect his neck, but let Dipper reapply the bandage each time.  He would then hang around while Dipper ate breakfast and found what he wanted to do for the day.  He was strangely quiet during the time, though. 

Maybe not that strange, considering he had done it before.  But he had a strange idea that after their intimate moment (he used the word loosely, but it was technically correct) that Bill would engage more with him, but it didn't seem so.  He stayed only until about noon, then left without much reason why. 

Before there had been the domestic feel they had before where he would come and just be in the background, but still had the impression that he wanted to be there, to be around Dipper.  Now, though, he almost acted like he was there out of obligation.  He was there to check up on him and then go.  Even when he tried to have a conversation with him, he only seemed to care about the first part of what he said, then suddenly didn't care. 

Sometimes he thought he was waiting for him to say something specific. 

After two weeks of this, Dipper became agitated.  He wanted the attention, he knew.  He wanted him to stay, to give him a reason not to go crazy, but he would never tell him that.  He would never give him that satisfaction.  So when he left, he never said anything, just let him go with some muttering in his wake. 

There were a few days he just told him to go, that his neck had healed, he no longer wanted him to hang around.  And Bill left without conflict, leaving him alone for the rest of the day.  He would be back the next day for the same thing, but there was a tension that just made Dipper want him to leave all over again. 

He kept going back and forth between wanting him back and wanting him to just go. 

One day when Bill had come for him, he didn't say anything all day.  He just stayed in the background, watching him.  Dipper ignored him, going about his routine without acknowledging him.  He bathed, clothed, ate, and went back to his translations, all while never looking at him.  Bill sat in his seat across from him, eye looking at a corner of the room, not saying a word. 

After a long time, he finally stood.  Dipper could only tell so by the sound, but he didn't look up from his project. 

"Pine Tree." 

The voice was low, almost a whisper, and it there was something in it, something he didn't understand, something he didn't want to understand. 

Something familiar, but he couldn't place from where. 

Dipper ignored him.  He focused on his book, writing another line.  Bill had brought him here, hadn't he?  Bill had said he wanted him, had done all this for him.  Well, then, he would have to act like it.  If he wanted Dipper so badly, he could at least give him more than a passing moment of his time.  If he wanted Dipper, he would have to show him that. 

There was a silence.  It stretched on and on, and it became heavy.  It weighed on his soldiers, but he shrugged it off for the while. 

When he couldn't stand it any more, he looked up at him.  He was surprised by the look he was receiving from Bill. 

It was of complete disinterest. 

"I see," Bill said.  And then he was gone. 

Dipper was silent for a long moment, staring at where he had been.   _Wait_ , was the word that came to his mind.  Something inside said to say it out loud, to cry into the silence of the room for him to come back, but he couldn't will himself to it. 

He felt something had changed, with the look he was giving him.  That he was objectifying, but in a much different way.  He hugged his shoulders as the image of the eye would not leave him. 

Dipper had never felt so alone then the emptiness from Bill's disappearance this time. 

::*~~*:: 

Bill did not return after that. 

Weeks went by, almost a month, and there was no word or sight of the triangle monster.  He got up in the morning, did his usual thing, but Bill was no longer there to surprise him.  Or to hover around him.  Or at all. 

Dipper decided to enjoy it at the time.  He did what ever he wanted, read whatever books he wanted, played video games.   

After the first week, he stopped writing journals and started to write a book.  It was a fictionalised version of his life in Gravity Falls, with all of his family and friends still alive, continuing on their adventures.  They defeated the triangle and had gone on to fight other great beasts. 

It kept him entertained for a great while, but only for so long.  After it brouched a month, though, he couldn't keep it up.  The silence that filled the many rooms he had been given was getting to be almost loud.  He was running out of distractions and quickly. 

He wanted attention.  He needed attention.  He needed to hear a voice, anyone's, even Bill's.  He was getting to the point where even Bill's madness would be welcomed.  Anything would be welcomed. 

But he didn't say it.  He thought it, almost begged for it in his mind, but could not bring himself to say it.  What good would it even do?  He had no way of knowing if Bill would actually come, or how long it would be between that and the next time. 

All the while, there was still food.  There was still supplies.  Bill was still making sure he was taken care of, making sure he was still alive.  He tended to him like you would a fish: drop in some food and clean the bowl, but not really do anything else. 

He was a fish.  A pet.  A pet Bill didn't even care about.  He had maybe truly wanted him at some point, but now, he just took care out of what was almost an after thought, it seemed. 

He had become an obligation.  And how much longer before he didn't care at all? 

Dipper had dreams that only heightened the feeling.  In a bowl, or a cage, waiting for master to come back, just to pat him on the head.  Or he was a toy on the shelf, and sometimes Bill would come to dust him off, but inevitability would leave him to never return. 

He was forgotten.  He was no longer wanted.  By the time it crept up to two months without contact, he could no longer handle those thoughts.  He could no longer handle both being wanted and not wanted to acknowledge how badly he wanted to be wanted.  He could no longer handle this life he was given. 

Dipper started to have much darker thoughts. 

It had already been a thought he had off and on, but not one he entertained.  Anytime it came up, he found something to force it out, to keep it from sinking too far in, and coming to fruition. 

But after two months, he couldn't hold it back anymore. 

Dipper was in the large bathroom furnished for him.  He didn't need anything so big, but when he pleaded that he did need _something_ , Bill went over the top, as he did with all of Dipper's other requests.  It had all the things he needed, not just the toilet or large bath and shower stall, but even the little things like shampoo and soap. 

As well as old fashioned shaving implements. 

Dipper had been in the bathroom, staring at his reflection for what had felt like forever.  In his hand was the straight razor he had used time and time before over the past two months to keep his face the shaven aside from the little goatee.  But his face was already cleaned, and his purpose for the metal was something much different than its usual intention. 

It had been hours that he stood there, his mind blank.  Finally he moved, putting the tip of the blade at the base of his palm.  He wasn't even looking at it, but still looking in the mirror.  He didn't want this, this wasn't what he had thought would come out of that summer he spent with his Great Uncle all those years ago, but what other option was there now? 

Even if Bill would come back, how long before he would leave again?  And what did he have in store for him?  He was just going to continue to torment him, both through his weird treatment and the mind games he kept playing, and how much more of that could he take?  Did he even want to?  There was nothing he could do, he was stuck in the world Bill had made for him, and even if he got out, there was no one to return to. 

Defeating Bill meant nothing without his friends and family. 

Dipper hissed when the razor went in.  It was only the tip and he hadn't even moved it yet, but it was a cold sting that sent a wave down his body.  He almost felt nauseous, but he knew he had to continue.  He started to drag down, biting his lips as he did. 

He only got so far before a dark hand gripped the wrist holding the blade. 

"You're no good to me like that," was the whisper that resounded in his mind. 

"Shut up," Dipper hissed.  He could feel a firm body behind him, and he could see the formation of his half human form behind him in the mirror.  He blinked, angry at the tears that were forming in the corner of his eyes.  He hadn't noticed them.  It made him angry, he thought he could have done the deed without any real emotional involvement, just be done with it, have a logical end to it all. 

There was a light chuckle.  Of course that asshole would get off on this.  Dipper growled. 

A warm hand glided over his small cut, and it healed as he did so.  He sighed, hating the feeling of relief that he had.  Defeated, he leaned heavily into the faux body behind him.  Arms wrapped around him, and it almost felt familiar, like the times William would embrace him. 

"You know I can bring you back, right?"  He took the razor from him, setting it down on the marble counter top.  "There is no such thing as life and death for me." 

"Then bring them back," Dipper said. 

Another snicker.  "That would defeat the purpose." 

"What purpose?" 

"Of waiting until they were all gone, so I can have you." 

Dipper elbowed him in the stomach, causing the monster to back up.  He pulled away, turning around to face Bill.  He glared at him.  "Why?  Why me?  What's the point?" 

After all this time, he never really got any of the answers from Bill.  He didn't expect anything from him, but he could have hoped for it in this moment, when he needed something. 

"I told you, I've wanted you, all this while." 

He ignored the underlying tone in the statement.  "You could have had me, you could have taken me at any time."  He was trying to keep his distance, but Bill was always close to him, and there was nowhere to go in the small space.  "You didn't have to wait!" 

"But I did."  Bill reached out, a hand gracing down his cheek.  "I had to wait until there was nothing left for you." 

"Why?"  There was a whine in his voice, a coming sob.  "Why then?" 

"You're less likely to run if you have nothing to run to."  The statement was said with such ease, it made Dipper's heart sink.  It was true.  He had taken everything Dipper had to live for. 

Dipper didn't fight against his touch anymore.  He felt drained by the simple comment.  "Why did you wait, still?  You could have killed them at any time..." 

"I could wait, a year, two, three, it feels like a blink to someone my age."  His hand moved down the side of his face, to his neck.  "I mean, it did feel a little longer, wanting my next prize after getting your dimension and all, but it was worth it.  How things turned out, they were perfect." 

Dipper almost felt like crying again, the admission's meaning holding a truth that he didn't want to think about.  But it had rung the bell to a question he had to ask. 

"What's the prize after me?" 

"Do you think I'll bore of you, Pine Tree?" 

"You already are." 

Bill chuckled.  He pulled away from the young adult.  "That's what you think, huh?" 

Dipper wasn't even looking at him.  He said nothing, biting his lip.  He didn't want to admit to it, the line he was thinking of, but it was there.  He knew what it would mean if Bill got tired of him, if he simply weren't interested anymore. 

Bill would leave and never come back. 

"Bill, please," he begged.  He couldn't even count how many times those words had left his lips since Bill retrieved him months ago. 

Bill hummed.  "No," he said definitively.  "No, I guess you're not in the mood today."  Dipper could hear the sound of his loafers against the tile, taking two steps back.  He opened his eyes to see the half-human just a yard away, but he still felt miles off as he backed away. 

"Bill?" 

"If you think I'm done with you, I might as well be."  He held up his hands, much like he did when he was about to snap his fingers and disappear. 

"Wait!" he cried out.  Before he knew what he was doing, he was grabbing at Bill, hands gripped his forearms tightly. 

Bill gave him an amused look.  "What is it, Pine Tree?" 

Dipper couldn't look at him.  His eyes were downcast as he pleaded, "Don't... don't leave..." 

"You normally can't wait to be rid of me." 

Dipper was silent.  He kept looking at the tile beneath them. 

"You thought I was bored of you." 

"Aren't you?" 

"You do get a little dull," Bill said easily.  "But what can we do about that?" 

Dipper slowly turned his head up.  "What... what do you want?" 

Bill shrugged.  "What can you do to make me want to stay?" 

He blinked.  What could he do?  Normally it was Bill who did everything, took what he wanted.  It was always on a whim, too.  He had no way of telling what random thing would do it for him. 

"I don't... I don't know what..." 

"I'm sure you can think of something." 

Dipper hesitated again, eyes focused on Bill.  A thought went through him, but he dismissed it at first.  Bill wasn't human, he couldn't possibly have the same desires as other men.  But then he remembered the day in the bedroom, how intent he was on being present for the whole act.  How expertly his hand had fit around him, inside of him, he had to put forth some amount of knowledge, some want for that knowledge for something like that. 

After all, what would a megalomaniac being from a two dimensional universe that clearly had no genitalia of his own need to know about human male masturbation? 

There was another long pause before Dipper made up his mind.  He tried to drown out any thoughts as he slid slowly to his knees.  He didn't have to look up at the triangle to feel the eye staring at him intently.  He was gradual about taking the zipper in his fingers, about sliding it down as he unbuttoned his pants.  Gradual about pulling on the cloth, just enough to reveal that he had nothing on underneath.  His member was in front of his face, already large only half erect.  He had made the right choice, he could tell.  Not by the evidence before him, but how Bill's fingers were curling into his hair. 

There was no sound as he hesitantly touched him, wrapping his hand around the base.  Bill wasn't saying or doing anything, other than running the hand through his hair.  With a sigh, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the tip of his length.  It twitched under him, but something about that seemed to calm him.  Even if the rest of him was beastly, this part of him was human, fully human as it quivered under him.  He looked up at him, trying to gage if this really was what he wanted. 

Bill was looking down at him, an unreadable expression on the triangle's face.  He took a deep breath before putting the head in his mouth, all while keeping eye contact.  He made no noise as Dipper took a small amount of him in.  He could feel him fully going erect in his mouth, though, so he must be doing something right. 

He didn't even try to go down the length more than half way.  It was his first time doing anything like this, and he didn't really feel the want to be gagged around something so big.  He had always thought his first encounter with fellatio would be with William.  He had been large, too, but he would have been okay with swallowing him, knowing it would have never been coerced out of him. 

But was he really being coerced?  As he started to bob his head along Bill's length, Dipper knew he was the one who put himself in this position.  He was the one who went to his knees and started this.  Bill hadn't asked, hadn't even really given him more than the vaguest of hints, and yet that was where his mind had naturally gone to.  But he had to do something, anything to keep Bill there, to keep him from leaving again.  He had to keep him there, give him a reason to come back if he did go. 

After all, Bill was the only thing he had left in the world. 

"That actually feels good," came Bill's smug tone.  "I can see why you humans like it." 

Dipper tried to ignore him, turning his concentration completely on the task before him.  He held onto his hip for support, his other palm working on the part of the shaft he couldn't fully put into his mouth.  He closed his eyes, no longer able to look Bill in the eye as he went. 

"And you haven't done this before, right?" 

Dipper made a sound around him.  He pulled back for just a moment to answer.  "No, I haven't."  He still wasn't looking at him.  He licked at the head, his tongue glancing through the slit.  He was rewarded with a shudder. 

"Why didn't you ever do anything with that boyfriend of yours?" 

Dipper turned his eyes to the triangle.  Why was he asking?  Why did he care?  "We just never did," he said, his voice curt.  "What does it matter?" 

Bill chuckled.  He pushed a little on the back of Dipper's head, and the young adult went back to what he was doing.  He put the length back in his mouth, taking in almost half of it quickly, his teeth gracing the shaft lightly. 

He didn't speak right away.  His hand was tight in his hair, moving him along without really forcing him, and Dipper let it happen.  Bill took his other hand, lifting it up until he reached where his face was.  He could feel something along his fingers, something like a tongue, but he didn't want to think about it.  He just wanted this over with.  He wanted it done. 

Dipper didn't want to think about how this opened the door for more. 

"I was following you," Bill said lightly.  He kept hold of the hand, positioning it on his chest and keeping it there.  "All the way to the other side of the country, all those spots you thought you hid from me.  I kept my eye on you, until I could get you alone." 

His hips were moving slightly, pushing himself further into Dipper's mouth.  He tried to relax, take in the coming girth, but he still gagged here and again. 

"I lost you for about a year, couldn't find you no matter who I sent out, no matter how many eye-bats went looking."  There was a hitch in his breath, and Dipper hoped he was getting close. 

Would he want him to swallow?  Oh, gods, he would, wouldn't he?  Or would he do it on his face, to be extra humiliating? 

"I heard about all these survivor colonies, yours wasn't the only one, you know."  His fingers were almost pulling at his hair, keeping him in place, making him move, and even if he tried to look up, Bill wasn't allowing him to. 

"But I found you, Pine Tree, I finally found that little underground you had made."  Bill was purring his words, a mirth he was unfamiliar with.  "And I infiltrated it, and at first that's all I wanted.  To see what you all were doing, how it was coming along, to see what more you had to lose before I could swoop in and scoop you up." 

His movements were speeding up.  Dipper was grateful, he must be almost there.  He would deal with the end when it happened, and go from there with whatever humiliation he would endure.  For now, he moved his hand faster and swirled his tongue around his length, hoping it would be done with soon. 

"You know what I found?  I found you happy, with all of them, despite everything."  His tone was unnaturally even.  "You had the love of your family and friends, even those pathetic humans you found loved you...  But you know what you didn't have?" 

Dipper didn't answer.  He wanted to ignore him in favour for getting it over sooner. 

"Love love.  You know what I mean, that thing you humans are always after."  That hand in his hair was becoming almost too much, hurting some.  He whined around the muscle in his mouth, but it seemed Bill didn't notice.  "I was already looking forward to you losing them: Shooting Star, the big guy, Red, what that would do to you, how you would fall apart. 

"But what would happen if you lost someone else?  Someone you were close to in that obscenely sweet kind of way?" 

Dipper had been tuning him out before, but now he was starting to focus on what he was saying.  Something about his tone, something about what he was getting at. 

"I even gave you a hint, Pine Tree.  I made it obvious." 

He tried to object, tried to move away, but Bill pulled him back onto him, grunting as he did so. 

Bill took his hand, moving it back up.  There was that tongue against him again, but when he thought about it, it was familiar, and not because of anything Bill had done in the past two months.  No, it was something else.  The way he encircled his middle finger, wetting it just right, it was what William did before they got in front of each other, preparing him so Dipper could finger himself while he watched. 

Bill pulled his hair so his mouth was just at the head and tugged back so Dipper could look up.  Before he could exclaim at the sight of two mismatched eyes staring down at him, Bill was releasing into his mouth.  He didn't do anything at first, too stunned by the sight above him, blond and black hair falling over a dark skinned chiselled face.  But Bill held him in place, giving him nowhere to go, and Dipper found himself forced into swallowing. 

Some of it leaked out the side of his mouth, but he didn't care.  When Bill finally let go, pushing away from him, he could only stare at him.  He fell back on the tile, catching himself by his palms, breathing heavily.  The taste in his mouth was forgotten as he narrowed his brows, anger quick to consume him. 

"Stop!" he shouted.  "Don't you dare wear his face!" 

He must have been in his dreams, must have seen him there and known what he looked like from that.  That was the only explanation.  The only one. 

Because the other was too hard to take. 

Bill grinned at him, an expression he had never seen on William's face and one that did not fit him at all.  "But it is my face, Pine Tree.  I made it, just for you." 

Dipper was wide eyed, unbelieving. 

"No, no, that's not... that's not possible..." 

Bill adjusted himself, putting his wilting member back in his pants and zipping back up.  "But it is."  He buttoned himself.  "And you fell for it."  His dark laugh filled the bathroom.  "You fell for _me_." 

Dipper curled into himself, pulling his hair as he rocked back and forth.  "No, no, no, not you, I loved William, he is not you, he can't be you." 

He flinched when a hand went through his hair.  "But it was me." 

Dipper could feel the tears coming.  He choked back a sob.  "Why... why..." 

"Because it was fun." 

The tears came unbidden.  He was still curled up, crying uncontrollably.  All that time, the man he thought had brought him peace... was just another of Bill's tricks? 

"I'll give you time to let that sink in," Bill said, his tone unusually sincere.  It almost sounded like... like...  He tugged on Dipper's hair, pulling his head back so he could look him in the eye.  "I'll be back, though."  He smiled, and it was William's smile he gave. 

"I promise." 

He kissed Dipper before disappearing.  Once gone, Dipper fell to his side, the sobs coming without seeming end.  That had been the worst of it all, the worst thing Bill had done since he appeared in the mirror.   

Because his lips felt just like William's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This month is best Inktober and Kinktober, and I'm doing my best to keep up with it on my tumblr (sushisama) and my instagram (sushisteatime).  
> Also!  
> Soon I'll have BillDip keychains available for sale. I'm also having a sale on all my prototype keychains on my Storenvy (sushisteatime.storenvy.com) that will go to making better keychains. I'm also offering writing commissions on my tumblr. Not to mention I have a Patreon (sushisama), which will soon have speed paints and high resolution things and other things.   
> Any help I can get on these would be amazing, as it goes into money for me and my wife to move out of my parents' house, get into a new place, and gives me more freedom to keep creating things for you all! <3


	6. Rewarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper wants to forget the day before, but Bill makes it clear that it is only the start of things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in this chapter. I would have had this out last week, but I was in a wreck, and it kind of shook me up badly. I'm hoping to have a chapter a week after this.  
> Stay tuned to the notes at the end for more updates and a request for help.

Bill did not come back the next day, and Dipper was both grateful and disappointed.  He was still reeling from what he was trying to convince himself was a lie, refusing to believe anything Bill had said with relation to William.  At the same time, though, Bill had said he would come back, and Dipper reluctantly had wanted him to keep with his word.

He played video games for the entire day.  He went from one to the next, trying desperately to just keep his mind blank, lest he spent any moment dwelling on the events of the day before.

But he still had to bathe and eat.  During these moments, it wasn't just the feel of the tile on his knees that prevailed his mind, but memories of his years with William.  He was going through so many of the rolling movies in his mind, trying to find holes in Bill's accusation, ways that it could not possibly be correct.  He only found that he fell in the valley of not being able to disprove or prove him either way.

All he felt was a hole in his heart, filled with memories he wanted so badly to be worth remembering, worth keeping.  Instead, there was a razor edge around something that was once so pleasant, that he still wanted to touch, despite the cuts it now left behind.

Dipper spent the day in his turmoil, but even at the end of it all, he begrudgingly wanted Bill there.  Maybe he would punch him when he showed up, but he still wanted him there.

Punching him was the exact impulse he had to hold back when he went to crawl into bed that night, skull in hand.  He was met with Bill's smug face, still bearing the likeness of William, as he stretched out on the covers, wearing pyjamas that were similar in style to what his boyfriend would have worn.

Dipper inhaled deep, willing himself to something like composure as he sat the skull on the bedside table, pointing the eyes toward his pillow.  He didn't give Bill the satisfaction of a reaction, keeping his eyes away from him as much as he could.

"I'm glad you still use my gift," Bill said in an almost honest tone.

Dipper didn't respond.  He pulled back the covers, grateful Bill was on the other end of the mattress.  He climbed into bed, tucking himself in on his side at the edge of the bed, turned away from Bill completely.

The monster hummed.  "I know, it's still a little overwhelming, isn't it?"  Dipper shivered when he felt warm fingers graze his neck.  "If you would give it a chance, I'm sure this way will-"

"Take off his face," Dipper hissed.  He did not turn, his gaze still fixed on the wall in front of him.

"It is my face, Pine Tree," Bill replied.  There was a shift in the bed, and he could feel his body closer to his, almost pressed up against him, though the blanket was still in the way.  "The sooner you accept it, the sooner it will be for you."

"You really don't know how humans work, do you?"

Bill pulled at his thin shirt, wrapping it around his arm so he could run a hand over his shoulder.  "I learned a little, actually," he answered.  His hand dipped under the cover, gripping at the bottom hem of his shirt.  "Not just from you, but all that time I watched you all...  I don't really understand it, but I can still put two and two together, depending on the equation I'm given."

Dipper's body went rigid as Bill's hand went under the cloth to touch his back.  "Do you understand why I'm upset then?"

"I do.  For the most part."  His hand continued up the length of his spine with an oddly gentle caress.  "But the hope was that, eventually, the pleasantness you have attached to this visage would bring you some peace to the situation you're in."

"You're wrong."

Bill chuckled.  Dipper let out a loud yelp when nails raked roughly down his back.

"You're still missing the point in all of this," Bill whispered into his ear.

"Then explain it to me!" Dipper snapped.  He turned around, sitting up as he did to give Bill a glare.  "You speak in cryptic messages, make this sound like it's even _for me_ ," he accused, "but at the end it's all for you, isn't it?  This is your sick game."  He was backing up the entire time, trying to put more distance between himself and the monster.  "You selfish _prick_."

Bill seemed rather unperturbed by the comments.  He just grinned at the human as he sat up to face him.  "I never denied any of that."

Dipper narrowed his brow, but didn't know how to immediately respond.

"Maybe I should go."

Dipper's expression fell at the simple comment.  Bill had already put a leg off the bed, and something about the simple action made him react without thinking.  He grabbed at Bill's wrist, his grip tighter than he would have intended had it been a conscious motion.

Bill gave him an honest sincere look, but said nothing.

Dipper let go, pulling his hand back to himself.  He cradled it for a moment, like he had no idea it had existed before that moment.  He looked at the sheets, unable to bring himself to look at his captor.

Finally, after a long silence, he whispered, "...please, don't."

He knew he couldn't deny the honesty in his voice.  He did want him to stay.  After all, why had he done what he had done yesterday if he was just going to leave again?

Bill smiled, almost genuinely.  He leaned forward, putting an arm around Dipper's waist, and bringing him closer.  He let himself be led, but his body was completely stiff as he was laid down on the bed.  Bill had pulled the covers up, but thrown them to end of the bed, leaving him exposed in the middle of the mattress.  Bill's look was savage as he came to hover over his body, hands on either side of his head.

Dipper bit his lip as he looked up into those mismatched eyes, full of hunger.  He tensed up, anticipating what would come next.  What would he do to him?  Would he want the same as yesterday?  Would he want more?

How much of this was to become normal?

"One thing I learned, all that time I spent with your lot," Bill started, his hand moving down Dipper's body, "is your inconsistency.  You say one thing, but mean another."  He came to straddle Dipper's thighs.  He lifted up his shirt slowly, exposing his abdomen.

"How often did you want me to touch you?"

"I don't want you to touch-"

Bill rolled his eyes.  He leaned in closer.  "But you did.  In the subway, at night, we'd kiss-"

"Stop."  Dipper pushed at Bill's chest, but it made no difference.

"-we'd touch, but never too much."  He took Dipper's wrists in his own hands before holding them down on the mattress.

"Don't," Dipper commanded.  He attempted to lift his legs, but could only go so far with how Bill was sitting on him.

"Why was that, though?"  He moved his wrists up the bed, past the pillows, to the headboard.  "It wasn't like the sexual attraction wasn't there."

Dipper had been too fascinated by Bill's face, the expression etched on it, that he was caught off guard by the warm metal around his wrists.  He turned his head to watch as glowing shackles trapped him, chains pulling his wrists together and in place against the headboard.  His breathing hitched, and his thoughts circled what could be next.

"Bill, please—"

Bill's hands were roaming down his body again, nails replacing once gentle finger tips.  "We would watch each other, but really, didn't you want me to touch you, instead of touching yourself?"

He straightened up, his shoulders rolling back.  He flicked his wrist and snapped his fingers, and there were shackles on Dipper's ankles.  He yelped as he was pulled tight to the footboard, his body elongated over the length of the bed.

"By your own omission, even," Bill went on.  "You had a dream of me fucking you, remember?"  He placed a hand on his stomach.  An icy chill went through his veins under his touch, spreading through him and stilling him with an eerie ease.  He found himself motionless under the touch.

"I'm sure it wasn't the only one," he said through a toothy grin.  "Even when I lay next to you, you would think about it, about me touching you..."

Dipper buried his head into his arm, hiding the blush on his face.  "I was thinking of William."

"You'll catch up to the context, I'm sure," Bill replied.

"Bill," he tried again.  He wanted to curl in on himself, keep him away, and not give him any sort of invitation.  "Please, Bill..."  He didn't care if he was begging.  He could only see one conclusion of this arrangement, and he wasn't ready for it.  He knew it would happen, that it was the only step he could think of Bill taking next, but not yet, no, he still-

"I'm not going to fuck you, Pine Tree."

The words were whispered into his ear.  They sent a chill through his already cold body, and his teeth almost chattered.  Bill snickered against the side of his head before kissing his cheek.

"My intention is that it won't be like this," he said, voice still low.  He nipped at his jaw before sitting up once more.  "But then again, my intentions and my patience are two different things."  His finger traced down his neck.  "Do remember that, won't you?"

"What do you—"

"You're going to want to stay still for this," Bill interrupted.  "Hence all the..."  He pulled at the chains briefly.  "Make sure you don't fidget about too much, right?"

  He gave him a kiss on the nose before moving down his body.  He almost sat on his legs as he hovered over his stomach.

"Can you feel this?" Bill asked, his voice sincere.

Dipper had to look at him, see what he was doing.  He was pinching an area around his naval, but he couldn't feel any of it.  He shook his head.

"Good."  He held up his hand, extending his index finger, and as Dipper watched, it grew several inches; both at the tip, and a thin part came out the back of the first joint.  The end of it looked like the tip of a pen almost.  He brought it back down, and Dipper had to watch him to see what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" Dipper asked.

The tip was placed on the right side of his stomach.  Slowly, he started to drag it along his flesh.  Dipper grit his teeth despite not truly feeling anything. 

"One of my favourite things about you is how inquisitive you are, Pine Tree," Bill said, not taking his eyes off Dipper's abdomen.  "And it's so tempting, to answer all of your questions as they come..."

A cloth materialised as he spoke.  He dabbed at the lines he was making, not giving Dipper a glance as he worked.  "But some things, you have to wait for.  _I_ have to wait for."  He rubbed his naval.  He kept moving his finger.

"This can work, you know," he carried on.  "But you have to be part of this."

"Part of what?" Dipper said through gritted teeth.  "You keeping me locked up to cut and molest me?"

Bill chuckled.  "You didn't used to complain about me 'molesting' you."

"You're _not_ William."

Bill made one last line before he sat back to admire his work.  He grinned at whatever it was before looking Dipper in the eyes.  He wiped the area again before he touched his stomach and the cold left his veins.  He felt the sting of whatever Bill had cut into him, but it was light and already fading.

"You deserve a reward," Bill soothed, running a hand along his stomach.  "For yesterday, especially."

Dipper struggled against the chains again.  Bill leaned in, pressing lips against his.  There was a horror in its familiarity.

"Bill..."

"I told you, I won't be fucking you today," Bill assured.  He moved, settling himself between Dipper's legs after nudging them apart.

Dipper pulled, his words and his actions not matching up.

Bill put a finger to his lips, and Dipper found himself quieting as he was shushed.  He completely seized up as he palmed his flaccid member through his pyjama bottoms. 

"I never really got to touch you," Bill said as he rubbed gently at the area.  "Though you wanted me to, didn't you?"

Dipper inhaled deeply as he pulled down his bottoms enough to reveal his penis.  He turned his head away, burying it once more into the side of his arm, still held tight above his head.  He could only thrash in vain, held fast by both the chains and Bill's grip.

"Despite how you think of me, the selfish _prick_ ," he continued, moving his hand up his shaft, eliciting a groan from Dipper, "I do have... some of your interests in mind."

Dipper scoffed.  He grit his teeth, disgusted at how his body was reacting to Bill's warm palm.  "Liar," he spat out.

Bill snickered.  "Relax, Pine Tree," he said low.  He kept moving his hand, up and down Dipper's now fully erect member.  "Think of all the times you wanted my hand on you instead of your own."

"You're... not..."  Dipper held back the little noises that wanted to leave him with every stroke, every light squeeze, and every time he paused to run the pad of his thumb along the slit of his head.  He bit his tongue as he closed his eyes tight.

He felt lips on his neck, down his chest.  He shuddered uncontrollably, his body having memory of that mouth and tongue that his mind was trying to ignore.  "It's me, Dipper..." he whispered against his skin.

A moan left him at both the tone and the stroke.

There was a light laugh as he moved down his body.  Settling again, he spent a moment to pull at his bottoms, and they moved off him without effort or physics.  He left him momentarily to spread his legs a little as he lifted his knees up, making Dipper lay his feet flat on the bed.  The chains seemed to slack enough for this, much unlike before, but he had a feeling if he flailed any, they would tighten back up.

"Move up a bit."

Dipper's eyes widened at the command.  Bill sighed while rolling his eyes.  He took hold of his hips, lifting him up slightly.  He wedged his thighs under him to keep him up, but space in between so he could reach between his legs.

"Bill!"  Dipper pulled on the chains, both his arms and legs, but they held tight.  "You said you weren't going to!"

"Calm down, Pine Tree," he soothed.  "I told you I wasn't, and I mean it.  Have I lied to you yet?"  He took hold of his still erect member and began to stroke it again.

Dipper's body was still tense, despite the delightful feel of Bill's oddly smooth but still flesh feeling palm.  "I'm... I'm sure you have..." he muttered, though no complete lies came to mind in the jumble that his thoughts was becoming.  He thought of half-truths, of veiled facts to get a coerced reaction, but he could not think of any outright lies as Bill continued to move along him.

"This is for you, you know," Bill said, his brow furrowing some.  "I am being _charitable_ , when I far from _have to be_ , and you," he leaned over him, and Dipper found a hand around his throat, " _should be grateful_."

The fingers tightened around his neck, and Dipper tried desperately to get air, though only proved futile.  He could only get out a few grunts that seemed to be ignored.

Bill blinked.  He let up on his grip slowly, and Dipper coughed before he could attempt to take in any breaths.  He looked wide eyed at Bill, who all the while had still been stroking him.  He sighed as he leaned down, his forehead bumping his.

"Pretend, if it's easier," he said.  He leaned back, settling once more between his legs.  "This one time, I'll let you pretend.  See whatever you want.  You've earned, I think."  He adjusted him once more to the position they had previously.  He went back to stroking him, while his other hand reached under him to probe at his entrance with one finger.

"But in the future..." he went on.  Dipper gripped at the part of the chain he could reach when he felt himself being entered.  "In the future, you will only _see me_."

Bill didn't ask for an acknowledgement, and Dipper didn't provide one.  He turned his head, buried himself away as he did what he was given permission to do.  He squeezed his eyes shut, imagining it was back in the subway, and that it was indeed William there.  He tried so hard to imagine it, moaning as long fingers reached within him, but he knew who it was.

As Bill moved in and out of him with his fingers, still giving him stroke after stroke, Dipper moved subconsciously to the motions, trying to get more.  He tried to numb himself, to let himself receive his 'reward,' pushing aside the consequences that such a submission would lead to. 

But he knew the monster, knew he would have his way no matter what, that even if Dipper continued to struggle, he would continue his assault on his body.  If he fought much more, he might even change what he was after, so he should take what was given to him.

He should take it with gratitude.

He moved with him, letting his moans become only slightly more audible.  Bill continued, curling his fingers, squeezing lightly. 

"W-will..."

"That's it, Dipper," he murmured, the tone smooth like the man he knew from the tunnels.  "There you go..."

Dipper's body moved off sheets as his back arced and his toes curled.  He was so close, he knew.  "Don't... don't stop..."

"Yeah?" was the answer.  "Come on, love...  Come for me..."

Dipper almost howled when he felt his climax, releasing himself on Bill's hand as he tightened around the digits still deep within him.  Bill continued to stroke for a few more, milking him completely as he aimed it more to his stomach.  Dipper shuddered when the fingers left him, allowing his body to fall limp against the mattress.

"See?"  Bill wiped his hand off on the cover.  He waved his arms, and the chains were completely gone.  "Wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Dipper refused to look at him as he panted.  He didn't move at first, but when he caught his breath, he made more of an effort to check his wrists and ankles than acknowledge Bill.  The monster didn't seem to mind, though, just sitting and watching him, saying nothing.

He made a quick effort to put his bottoms back on.  He attempted to put his shirt on, but when it touched the new carving on his stomach, he grunted and threw it off with a muttered expletive.  He stared down at it, and though the angle was strange, he could tell there was an eye staring back at him.

"Here, let me," Bill said.  He pushed him back against the bed by his shoulder before he ran a hand over the brand, a bandage appearing under his fingers.  He eyed it a moment before looking Dipper in the eyes, his gaze sincere.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Dipper bit his lip.  He had trouble looking at him right now, but he was afraid if he stayed, it would be an invitation for more.  "...will you come back tomorrow?"

Bill smiled down at him.  He leaned in, kissing him lightly on the lips.  "Is that what you want?"

Dipper nodded solemnly, the words unable to leave him.

"Then I'll come back tomorrow," Bill said.  And with that, he was gone, leaving Dipper alone in his own sticky aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Just as a heads up, in case you missed it, almost every chapter from here on out is going to have some sexual tinge to it. Just getting down hill more and more. Poor Pine Tree.  
> As I said before, I hope to have a new chapter up at least once a week, if not more, if possible. It is NaNoWriMo, so I'll have much more of a focus on writing this month, unlike last where I had a focus of art. I'll be more working on my original things, but I have a lot of BillDip ideas I want to keep working on, so that will happen, too.  
> Also, if anyone is able to, the wreck totaled my car, so I need help with getting a new one. I have things available for sale on my Storenvy (sushisteatime.storenvy.com), you can become my Patreon (www.patreon.com/sushisama), check out my tumblr for writing commissions and some other things available, or my Redbubble (www.redbubble.com/people/sushisama). Anything would be greatly appreciated!


	7. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill's patience comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rape in this chapter, near the end. Just a head's up.

Bill was there everyday now. 

For the week after, Bill would show up every morning, right after Dipper's shower.  He would hang around the whole day, participating some in whatever Dipper was into that day, and then he would ask if he wanted him to stay or not.  Each night, Dipper would tell him no, but he would still ask for him to come back the next day.  Bill would grin and nod and disappear. 

It had been strange, having him so close, especially now that he showed up almost exclusively in his human façade, but Dipper found he longed for it.  For that first week, Bill was reserved in his contact, only running a hand over his skin once and again, but not much more.  Instead, he showed an interest in what it was Dipper was preoccupying his time with, and they spent the days in each other's company.  Dipper was able to convince himself that he was with William, not Bill, and it became a comforting thing for him.  He almost forgot his situation once, and with his guard dropped, he calledthe dream monster by his boyfriend's name. 

The moment William's name had left him, Bill had stiffened.  His expression turned, and Dipper was reading him right, he was _offended_.  He grabbed at Dipper's chin, growling at him before kissing him fiercely, and decidingly not in a way William would have ever touched him.  He pushed him against the floor, and he could only struggle so much against his weight. 

Bill bit him hard on the neck, and Dipper cried out when he felt the skin break.  For a brief moment, he thought that this was it, this was when Bill would kill him, as his teeth (and he swore fangs he had never noticed before) dug into his flesh.  And then he was gone, away from him as he stood up, all while glaring at Dipper. 

"Our face may be the same," Bill said, his voice low, "but it is me here, it always has been." 

"Bill," was all Dipper could think to say, his head spinning.  He touched tentatively at the bite mark, wincing at how it stung.  He hesitated at looking at his hand, knowing that the cool wet he felt had to be blood, but not wanting to acknowledge it just yet. 

Bill grinned when he heard his name.  "And don't forget it." 

And then he was gone without anymore discussion. 

Bill didn't show up immediately the next morning.  Dipper had gone almost half the day, waiting for him to return, but he didn't.  He was disappointed, having been used to him showing up and being part of his day again.  He tried to ignore it, thinking he was still upset about the night before, and would show up eventually.  He went about writing his stories, doing his best to keep his mind occupied. 

Around the early evening, though, he couldn't ignore the lack of attention any longer.  He didn't want another start of a period of Bill's absence.  He didn't think he could handle it again.  Despite his situation, being with Bill was a million times preferable to being alone.  

"Bill," he said to the air.  He was at his desk in the den, his pen still in his hand, his work paused midsentence.  "Bill, please."  He sunk in his seat some, resting his head on his arms on the desk, his expression defeated.  He sighed.  "Come back..." 

Not much more than a minute later, he felt warm hands on his back.  Dipper whipped around to find Bill behind him, expression even, almost bored.  Before Dipper had known what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, burying his head into his stomach. 

Bill chuckled, running a hand through his hair.  "Already missed me, Pine Tree?" he teased. 

Dipper didn't respond, but he didn't move away.  "I'm sorry," he said.  Something scolded him in the back of his mind that he had nothing to apologise for, but he didn't care.  He just wanted to assure Bill would stay and wouldn't leave him again. 

"Are you?" Bill asked.  Dipper nodded into his abdomen.  Bill hummed.  "I think I'm owed a better apology than that.  I told you no more William, and yet, here you call me--" 

"I'm sorry," Dipper said again.  He moved, taking his arms from around him, to place his palms on his hips.  "I'm sorry, Bill," he reiterated, letting it be known he understood what he did wrong.  He timidly looked up at Bill, meeting the mismatched gaze. 

"Show me, then," Bill said, his eyelids low.  His lips were turned into a smirk, his brow cocked in an unmistakable innuendo. 

Dipper nodded.  There was no question in what Bill wanted from him.  And he knew he would give it to him easily, as he had no excuse not to.  After all, he had willingly given it to him before, without even being asked.  And he knew Bill liked it, that it would keep him coming back. 

Dipper simply slid off his chair and to his knees.  Without much hesitation, he unzipped Bill's fly and had his growing length in his mouth.  Though Bill's hand was in his hair, pushing and pulling at the strands, Dipper didn't need the instigation as he bobbed his head along. 

Dipper was more vocal this time, making sure to say Bill's name over and over, either by itself, or in some apology that was swallowed by the hard flesh in his mouth.  Half way through, Bill had mentioned he was forgiven, and before Dipper could react, there were dark tendrils ripping at his pants and leaving him naked from the bottom down.  Bill held his head in place, leaving him unable to do more than continue as the elongated lengths assaulted his body. 

"Relax," Bill cooed as one wrapped around Dipper's half-erect penis (one of the things he had been trying to ignore about the situation).  "This is for being such a good boy."  And then one was inside of him, the just a little more girth than a finger, slick with... something.  He didn't want to think about it.  He willed his body to ease on the tension as he was further invaded. 

He closed his eyes as he focused on the length in his mouth.  He wanted to be done with this, silently hoping this was all he wanted for the evening.  Bill had made it clear his intention to fuck him at some point, but he still felt he wasn't ready for it, if he ever would be.  Hopefully this would stave him off for a bit longer. 

Dipper moaned around Bill as the tendril went further inside of him until it hit his prostate.  It lingered there, moving its solid-but-flexible tip against him, and he shuddered at the feeling.  It was becoming hard to concentrate on the task at hand, but Bill assisted, curling his fingers in his hair and moving him along, even if it meant gagging him.  Dipper almost didn't care: the way the tip moved in sync with the tendril stroking him was just too much, it felt wonderful, despite where the pleasure was coming from. 

Dipper cried out when the length inside of him seemed to grow in girth, filling him up.  He clung to Bill's hips as he removed himself briefly from Bill's penis. His breathing was heavy, mixed with moans and light expletives. 

"Do you like that, Pine Tree?" Bill asked. 

Dipper shuddered.  His tone had changed, low and something about it was commanding even though he had simply asked a question.  He wanted something, Dipper could tell.  "No..." he lied.  His body betrayed him, though, as he let out a long moan. 

"There's no shame in it," Bill went on.  He pulled on Dipper's hair, pushing him back onto him, and Dipper almost subconsciously opened his mouth, taking his length was more.  The elongated digits moved with more gumption, the one inside of him hitting his prostate over and over.  He could feel his orgasm building, and he knew if he didn't stop, he could climax soon. 

"No reason we can't both enjoy this, after all," Bill said.  He kept pushing and pulling on his hair, and Dipper forced his throat to relax as much as he could, so he wouldn't be choked by the large phallus.  He grunted around it, running his tongue along it. 

"So, do you want me to stop?"  He didn't slow down in any of his movements as he asked. 

Dipper said something, but it was muffled.  Bill pulled him back, pulling his hair so he looked at him.  "What was that, Pine Tree?" 

Dipper bit his lip, his gaze just barely able to hold the one with the mismatched eyes.  "Please, Bill," he said, emphasising his name, "please, finish." 

Bill hummed.  "Say my name again." 

"Bill," Dipper repeated. "Bill, Bill, Bill..."  He said his name more as he took him in his mouth again. He hummed the name around the length, and Bill shuddered as he did. 

"Good boy," Bill said low.  He moved his hips faster, and Dipper figured he was getting closer.  The curling shadows inside and stroking Dipper sped up as well, and he could not hold it back any longer. 

At one particularly strong hit to his insides, Dipper almost yelled out Bill's name, quieted by the member in his mouth.  He released over the tendril holding his penis, spilling some onto the floor.  His body went lax as the digits seemed to melt away and disappear, but Bill wasn't done with him just yet.  He held his head in place, the head of his penis all that was in his mouth, as he climaxed into the wet cavern.  Dipper did his best to swallow the seed as it came, knowing that was what Bill wanted, and he wouldn't let go until he was done. 

Bill's grip was tight as he milked into Dipper's reluctantly willing mouth.  Dipper felt like he had swallowed so much, and he briefly wondered if the monster had control over it, doing it on purpose.  When Bill finally let him go, Dipper's grip left his hips, and he leaned forward on his palms heavily. Bill sat down next to him, his breaths also laboured. 

Dipper would only think later that it was strange he was out of breath. 

Bill scooped up Dipper into his arms, holding him close.  Dipper let his body go lax, nuzzling into Bill's chest.  There was a quiet that stretched on as they caught their breaths.  Finally, Bill stood up, taking Dipper with him. 

"It's about dinner time, isn't it?" Bill asked.  He helped Dipper to his feet, and his pants reappeared as Bill moved a hand down his thigh.  He led him to the mock kitchen.  Dipper clung to him, his legs weak as every step sent a jolt up his backside.  It didn't hurt (though he wondered if it would be sore later), but it left him a little dizzy, and he could still feel a phantom sensation of the tendril inside of him. 

"Bill," Dipper said as he was set down at the small kitchen table. 

"Yes, Pine Tree?" he asked.  He went about digging in the refrigerator, making a show of something he would just create on a whim. 

Dipper stared at the table, his eyes hazy.  "...you're coming back tomorrow, right?" 

Bill came back over to him, setting what looked like a steak in front of him.  He kissed his forehead before sitting down across from him.  "Of course," he said, smiling genuinely.  "As long as you keep asking." 

::*~~*:: 

Dipper asking for Bill's return seemed to be key.  If he forgot to remind him to come back the next day, Dipper would have to call out for Bill later if he wanted the monster.  This would lead to a routine that Dipper was surprised he easily fell into. 

Bill would come in the mornings, like he had started to do, and more and more, would become entangled in his everyday going ons.  He would read over his stories, play video games with him, and even suggested books in the library Dipper hadn't gotten to yet. With each day that went on, even these actions got more involved.  He would give him suggestions for his writing, or even ask him what he wanted for food, giving him real food instead of the whatever it was foodstuffs from before. 

Bill seemed much more invested in him now.  He wasn't humouring him, wasn't playing with him, was genuinely trying to be involved with Dipper's new life.  And Bill would let him ask more questions, to some extent, and even showed him how the world was to be divided up between him and his gang.  Bill vaguely discussed what was going on with the world, how things would be run, what was coming up after the first decade was over, but it still left plenty of unanswered questions for him. 

Though this part of his day he could consider almost pleasant, Bill did not let him forget his intentions.  As the days went on, Bill would become more and more physical with him.  He would linger just too close, or find any excuse to touch him.  He would go to sleep with him some nights, holding him, despite how Dipper tried to get out of his grip. 

When they played games, Bill would put Dipper in his lap, wrapping his arms around him and using the controller in front of him while putting his chin on his shoulder.  Dipper had to remind himself who it was that was touching him, lest he would relax into the almost comforting arms.  But he forced himself to be stiff, not trying to give off the air that he was enjoying it.  But that seemed to encourage him more, and half way through a playthrough, he would find Bill's hands wandering and his lips and teeth on his neck. 

It had been more than once during these gaming sessions, that Bill would push him forward, his motives clear as he would pull on Dipper's pants.  Dipper had found he would have to persuade Bill in various ways, from either feigning tiredness, or giving in to either a blowjob or handjob, which he still favoured over the act Bill was after.  This seemed to be true for any of Bill's attempts, as it came up multiple times. 

After a month since that first time in the bathroom, they had found a balance. Bill would pay attention to Dipper, genuinely being involved with his day, would sometimes try for something, and Dipper would deter him.  It was routine.  It was his day, and at some point, Dipper had just succumbed to it.  The days were pleasant enough, and even the times Bill went after him weren't always the worst, as he would almost always make sure Dipper got off as well. 

It wasn't ideal, and he would do anything to have things different, but all in all, it wasn't _bad_.  At least, that's what he told himself.  And it was becoming easier to accept things for what they had become. 

And then Bill's patience ended. 

Dipper wasn't sure what had started the conversation or even how it had gotten to the point it did.  The evening had started off well, he had thought, as they both sat in the den.  He was working on one of his translations, aided by a short cheat sheet Bill had given him, and Bill had been reading over some scroll with a language he had never seen before. 

There had been some light conversation interspersed between each of the activities.  It wasn't an unusual thing, both of them focused on their own thing.  It had happened often, and he had already expected this would be a night Bill would stay with him the whole through, as he had started to do.  He would eat, clean up, and Bill would come to bed with him, expecting something, and Dipper would find a way to get him to give up.  All part of the routine. 

But something went amiss, and their words got oddly twisted.  Dipper remembered just mentioning how he was feeling rather tired for the day and was thinking about turning in early, and Bill had made some sort of quip toward him staying up just long enough for some sort of physical activity.  Dipper had casually responded that he wasn't in the mood that night, and he had meant it as a light jab at their situation. 

Bill hadn't taken it that way, though.  He retorted with, "It doesn't matter if you're in the mood." His brow was furrowed as he stared down Dipper, both still in their chairs in the den. 

The response surprised Dipper.  Through all this time of deflecting the most aggressive of Bill's attempts, he had never shown any anger toward not getting his way.  But neither had Dipper ever actually drawn attention to what Bill was trying after or that he was trying to avoid it. 

Dipper would not be deterred, though.  Bill could call him out on it, but the truth was still the truth: he didn't want Bill to reach his goal, and would do anything to prevent him from having it.  He stood up, setting his books and pens on the table.  "It does, and I said no."  The dream monster glared at him, but he held his ground. 

The scroll disappeared as Bill stood from his seat.  He made the few steps to stand in front of Dipper, almost towering over him.  "Do you think you have a decision in this?"  His voice was low, an underlying threat in his word.  "I have been kind, I'd thin: exceptionally kind." 

He reached out for Dipper, but the human easily side stepped him, trying to keep his distance.  A growl left Bill, deep from his chest. 

"My kindness is running out, Pine Tree." 

"I don't care," Dipper spat back.  "Fuck your 'kindness,' fuck your 'hospitality.'"  He kept his eye on him, taking another step back.  "And _fuck you_." 

Bill grinned something wicked.  " _Fine_." 

"Wait, what--" 

Dipper yelped as his chin connected with the hardwood that had once been below him.  He found himself drawn to the ground, knees hitting with almost a bruising speed, his shoulders and chin laid out.  He tried to move, but he felt glued to the spot.  His arms were tucked under him, bound together by a phantom feeling of chains.  He tried hard to pull on his body, but nothing seemed to matter. 

"Bill!" he cried out.  "Bill, don't-!" 

"You should probably relax," Bill said in an almost drawl.  "Or don't."  He gripped the hem of his pants and easily ripped the garment off.  "Just a suggestion." 

Dipper did just the opposite as his whole body tensed up.  "Please, please, Bill," Dipper begged.  All he was able to was turn his head just enough to look up out the corner of eyes at what was going on behind him.  He instantly regretted it, though, as he saw Bill kneel behind him, unzipping his pants.  His eyes widened, and he tried again at struggling, the fruitless effort that it was. 

Dipper knew this day would come.  He knew that Bill would grow tired of playing cat and mouse, knew that Bill would claim what he was claiming to be his. And as Bill spread Dipper's legs, he knew it was the day for it.  The day that Bill would finally have him completely. 

Dipper turned his head back, closing his eyes tightly as he felt something at his entrance.  He whimpered, but it didn't seem to matter to Bill.  Dipper shuddered as he felt his length slide in between his cleft. 

Now he was just tormenting him. 

"I had better intentions than this, you know," he mused.  He placed a hand on each one of his cheeks and spread him out.  "But I'm tired of waiting for you to be 'in the mood.'" 

Dipper screamed into the floor as Bill thrust into him.  He was not gentle as he buried himself almost completely in one move of his hips.  It hurt so much, it burned as he was unwillingly stretched.  Tears fell as Bill pushed forward, seating himself fully inside. 

"Oh, _yes_ ," Bill almost purred.  He started to pull out until only his head was still inside before he slammed back into him, earning another yell from Dipper.  He let out a groan as he slid out and in another time. 

Dipper kept his eyes shut, biting his lip as the tears kept falling while Bill started a slow but hard pace.  He tried to will his body to relax, tried to accept the hard thrusts into his body, but it wasn't like when Bill fingered him or had his ghost arms molest him.  He always started small with those, waiting until he was ready to stretch him, and he deliberately tried to hit him where he would enjoy it. 

But know he was so large from the start.  It wouldn't have mattered had he been relaxed or not, it would have still been the burning pain it was now.  And with every thrust, it felt like he was being ripped apart. 

Bill's grip was tight into his hips as he continued to pound into him, his fingers almost bruising as they dug in.  He held him tight into place, his body jutting forward, pushing him into the floor again and again.  At some point, Bill leaned over him, and Dipper let out a gasp as he sunk his teeth into his neck.  He gripped his hair as he did, pushing him further into the ground. 

"You feel _wonderful_ ," Bill said into his ear.  "Even better than I could have imagined." 

"Please, Bill..." Dipper pleaded.  His face was covered in tears and his lip was bleeding from where he had been biting it.  "Bill..." 

"Yes, like that."  His movements began to hasten.  "Just a little more, Pine Tree." 

"No, Bill, please..." 

"I know, I don't want it over, either."  Bill chuckled.  "Don't worry; there will always be next time." 

Dipper whined into the floorboards.  Bill's thrusts were becoming more erratic, and he hoped it meant the nightmare was almost over. 

Bill moaned low as he sped up.  He gave only a few thrusts before he rammed hard into him, burying himself deep into Dipper as he growled out something in a different language. Dipper felt Bill's seed fill him up, warm inside of him as he kept crying. 

Bill held onto him for a long moment, making sure he was done before pulling out.  Dipper could feel the warmth leak out and down his thigh.  The hold on his arms and legs released, and Dipper fell to the floor the moment their grip was gone. Bill pushed on his shoulder, flipping onto his back. 

"There, there, Pine Tree," he said.  His voice almost sounded sincere.  He ran a hand down his cheek, and then he leaned in to kiss him on the forehead.  "It doesn't have to be like this." 

"What...?" 

Bill only smirked in response.  He leaned down, scooping him up.  He held him bridal style as he left the den for the bathroom. 

"I wanted this to be better for you," he said.  "Next time, hopefully you'll let me." 

Dipper whined into his chest, unable to think of a response. 

They were silent the rest of the night, as Bill took care of him.  He ran him a bath, making sure to be tender with his backside as he cleaned him up.  He helped him change into his pyjamas, as moving became difficult at certain points due to the pain. 

That night, Bill laid with him, holding him close.  Dipper, despite wanting to sleep, couldn't.  He laid with his eyes open, trying to ignore the pain, though it was almost impossible to.  But most of all, he could not get over Bill's behaviour.  How could he just act casual?  After what he did?  Did he really think that being sweet and caring supposed to make up for raping him? 

And then he realised, now that he had had him once, there was no doubt: Bill would want it again.  And again. 

One of his last thoughts before finally succumbing to fatigue was how long before Bill would want him again. 


	8. The Time as it Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The months go on, and Dipper settles into a new routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the absence, between holidays and personal stuff, it's been difficult. Still going to try to keep up with it better, though.  
> And if you have a moment, I still could use some extra scratch for a new car, so please hope on over to my storenvy (sushisteatime) if you're able to. :3

Gone were the days of 'no' being an acceptable answer.

Bill did not come after him immediately.  No, instead, for the few days after the first time, he was gentle with Dipper, especially after he saw the human's limp the day after.  He stayed around, not leaving for several days.

But when it was clear the Dipper was much better, he was rather insistent on having his way.  He turned him on his stomach as Dipper was about to go to sleep and whispered into his ear to relax.  Dipper did his best to do that, if only so it wouldn't be as painful as the first time.  Thankfully, Bill stretched him before entering, and gave him a reach around that only mildly took the discomfort out of being penetrated dry.  And when he was done, he rolled off Dipper and within moments, fell asleep.

The second time he went willingly, still emotionally exhausted after the first.  But the few times after that, he would try to sway him how he had before with attention in another matter, which only seemed to get him going when Dipper would seemingly willingly get on his knees.  What Dipper was using as a way to try and alter what would happen, Bill only took it as a go ahead for turning him over and finishing the thought.

So Dipper changed his tactic back to the first, where he outright told him no.  He would say he didn't want it, that Bill would have to wait, and in turn, Bill would growl and always end up taking him roughly.  It wasn't as bad as the first time, but he was still sore in the morning.

Two weeks after the time on the floor of the den, it was becoming part of their routine.  Dipper silently hoped this was the last of changes his captivity with Bill would take.  Even though a part of him had always known this was where they would end up ever since Bill had shown any interest in his sexuality, he was disappointed he couldn't have held it off any longer.  But now that it was happening, it didn't seem it would stop anytime in the future.

Eventually, Dipper had to concede to the fate he was handed.  He had already come to it in every other aspect of the situation, this was just something else he would have to face and adjust to.  This led to the decision of becoming a more active participant in the activity.  Even when he had tried to dissuade Bill with a blowjob, when he inevitably found his way to violate him further, Dipper would go limp and let it happen.  This seemed more pacifying to the monster than his disobedience, and he would be treated to an effort to make it more comfortable for him, or at least Bill trying to get him off as well.

There was a night that Bill had rolled him onto his side, raised a leg to settle on his shoulder, and was about to start fingering him when Dipper stopped him.  Bill's eyes had shot him a warning, but Dipper had ghosted a hand over his forearm to ease him.

"No, you... you can, just..." Dipper said, though he wasn't sure how Bill could hear his voice muffled by the pillow he was half buried in.  His face was flush as he thought of his words, what he was allowing, what he was going to ask for.  It was humiliating, it meant accepting, but it also meant making things bearable.

"What is it, Pine Tree?" Bill asked, his tone close to sincere.  "Don't worry; I plan on jacking you off."

Dipper shook his head.  He turned just enough to look at Bill out of the corner of his eye.  "Not that, I mean, please do, but..."  He gulped.  He again ran his fingers over Bill's arm.  Bill's brow was raised, but he was waiting patiently for whatever Dipper had to ask for.

"It's just... can you use lubricant?"  He took Bill's wrist, leading it to his backside.  Bill smiled as he took the gesture to slide a warm palm over Dipper's exposed rear.  Dipper shuddered.  He knew full well that the best route to get something he needed was to appeal to Bill's ego, either by stroking his ego or showing subservience.

Bill leaned over him.  Dipper bit his lip when a moan left him unbidden as Bill's erection slid along his cleft.  He cursed silently, hating how Bill had any effect on him, and blaming it on his feigned care for Dipper's engagement in his violation.  He shivered again as Bill laid kisses along the side of his head and cheek.

"Will that make it better?" he said quietly in his ear.

"For... for both of us, don't you think?"  Dipper bit his lip harder as Bill took hold of his mostly erect member and started to slowly stroke it.  "If you use it, I can, you know... relax easier.  It'll feel better, for you, too."

Bill hummed in his ear.  Dipper yelped when he was turned roughly onto his back.  Bill kissed him roughly, and Dipper, in his attempt to make it seem he was giving in somewhat, kissed back.  When he felt his fingers in him, they were slick with something cool and gel-like.  And when he took him, his penis was just as lubricated, and Bill went slow and hard, making sure he hit him deep inside, as if rewarding him for his participation.

That seemed to be the trick to it all.  He didn't just need to allow the inevitable but also be part of it.  When he asked for things or even was more engaging, the even would always go better for him.  Bill wouldn't be as rough, and he didn't just stroke him, but fucked him in a way that couldn't help but having his own climax that made him almost always forget who he was truly with.  He still pretended it was William when he could, imagining a world where he did not know the truth, that William was still someone he had just met, and was just an adventurous lover.

He had been able to fool himself most nights, too.  Now that he was an active player in his sex life once more, it rang tones of the nights in the subway.  Dipper had discussed his desires with his boyfriend on more than one occasion, and William had done the same.  There had been an admission on both of their parts for something like a healthy sexual appetite, and that both wanted something more than the usual when it came to sex.  William had admitted a few times that he had thoughts of holding Dipper down and taking him, and Dipper was more than eager to someday oblige him, the thought sending a delicious shiver through his body.

Now the body of William did exactly as they had spoken of, holding him down almost every night and taking him.  It broke the illusion for him sometimes, and he was forced to remember that who he once loved had been a lie.  It was a cold reminder that William could not be used as an escape as he had done when he first arrived in his cage, that Bill would disillusion him whenever he could.

It especially became disheartening whenever Bill held him as he went to sleep shortly after he was done.

Months went by, and Dipper's routine was almost completely set.  Wake up, bathe, eat, spend the day with Bill, and most nights, find himself on his knees, servicing him in one way or another.  It had been so natural for him, that he could tell the days when all he had to do was suck him off and that would be enough.  The other days, he would kiss Bill back, running his palms over him and almost seem eager when he unzipped his pants, turning around and readying himself as Bill did the rest.

It was self-preservation; he would remind himself as he was pounded into the mattress.  He knew it was the only way to ensure he wouldn't get hurt and that he might get something out of it as well.  And as he cried out into his pillow as Bill would go hard and deep, sometimes with extra help from his shadow limbs, sometimes not, he was able to put it out of his mind that not all of it was acting.

At some point, Bill had wanted to do more.  Nothing too rough at first, just chains holding him still, or leaving almost scarring teeth marks in him.  Dipper didn't seem to mind this much: he had been using bondage since the beginning, and the few times he wanted to comment on it, Bill was quick to remind him that he had spoken to William about such things, which had been part of the original instigation into it.  Dipper just blushed, but said nothing more as Bill tied him up.

Slowly, Bill added to the things he wanted to do to him.  One night, after initially telling Dipper to announce when he was about to come, Bill had choked him just as he climaxed.  He had been scared at first, thinking the worst, but it was soon subsided to the feeling of his orgasm mixed with the light headedness caused by his airways being blocked.

It hadn't been completely for his benefit, though.  It was merely a tactic to make him complacent.  Dipper had not realised it until one time Bill had been fucking him from behind when suddenly a chain wrapped around his neck.  He pulled back harshly, taking Dipper's breath away, and continued to randomly pull as he continued, long before either he or Dipper would be finished.  It wasn't all the time that he did something like it, but it was often enough that Dipper began to anticipate that he would be almost straggled every time.

Bill also continued his experiments with the shadow limbs.  Some days he would just accept Dipper's mouth in favour of seeing how many he could fit into his backside.  He eased up to more and more, only doing what he thought Dipper could take each time.  One always stayed around his penis, stroking him as he went, and one hitting his prostate.  As if to make up for the humiliation, those were the nights Dipper was allowed more than one orgasm (as most times, he would be likely to get one, where Bill would go two or three or more), until he was overflowing with a black sludge that felt thicker than Bill's seed.

There were nights when Bill didn't touch him at all.  These weren't the nights that nothing happened, which still did occur, but the nights that Bill wanted to watch him stroke and finger himself.  The only thing he would have to do was swallow when Bill would inevitably jack off in his mouth.

Sometimes, Bill wasn't there during the day.  When Dipper asked, Bill would only mentioned off-handedly that it had to do with the separation and making of territories, but told him not to worry any further than that.  He was always in a bit of a mood those days, and those nights tended to be the ones Bill was particularly rough with him.  He would bite, bruise, and go so hard that Dipper could barely move the next day.  He also stepped up the explorations, such as holding him in the air as he fucked him, or even making copies of himself so he could get sucked off while having him from behind.

Those nights were rough, but if Dipper even somewhat seemed game for whatever it was Bill wanted, he would slow down just enough to make sure he was ready or listen to him if he didn't think he could handle too much inside of him that night.  It was still rough and hard, but at least he wasn't limping the next day.

When he wasn't being Bill's favourite pastime (assuming that he was his only one, a thought that did cross his mind but he didn't linger on because some part of him got upset that he might not be), he was doing much of what he had done before.  He continued to write his stories, play his games, and read several books.  He had gone through almost the entire library Bill had given him, if only through skimming. 

Eventually he went back through them, reading them all more thoroughly, especially since he had taught himself three new languages based off the alien languages Bill had exposed him to.  Not to mention he now had the time to use the Sanskrit William had taught him that he just wasn't that quick with.

It was through this in-depth rereading that Dipper had come across a book that had just been nothing but random symbols to him before.  He knew the words inside were ancient, mostly in Sanskrit, though there was some Cuneiform in the back he didn't know how to translate, but he hadn't paid attention in favour of some of the easier books to read.  It wasn't far into the book when he realised it was a magic book of some sort.

Dipper was not surprised that the book was in the library.  There had been a few others, actually, just not this descriptive.  When he had asked Bill where they all had come from, he was told that they were from Stanford's library back in Gravity Falls.  Bill had brought them thinking that Dipper would like to have them.  It was an oddly thoughtful gesture on his part, but he was sure it was not intentional.

It took him three weeks to really get anywhere with it.  The mix of language was difficult enough, but it was written in some sort of code that made him think of some of the alchemic primers he had read over the years.  He wrote his notes in the book as he made his way through it, finding that was much easier to do than his usual note taking.

It was reading one night that he found near the back an uncanny similarity to another book he had back in the subway.  There were several highly detailed sigils with little notes scribbled next to them.  But he knew them, from a spellbook he had happened to find in a fallout shelter on their way out of Gravity Falls.  He had kept it with him at first for no other reason than it was the only book he was able to salvage out of the area.  Later on, he tried to read it through his vague understanding of Latin, but could only get so far as to know that the content was spellwork with power words.

The book was written originally in Sanskrit, just like the one he had found in his new library.  The sigils themselves were unique, but the 'words' were written in Cuneiform in this section.  The penned in notes were in Latin, which seemed strange since there was very little wear on the book itself, it had to have only been fifty or sixty years old.  Nonetheless, he knew enough to start learning some of the spells in it.

They were only things like lighting and some minor levitation, but it kept him amused between all the traveling they were doing across the country.  It was a little rough learning, since he had to rely on the Latin above the Cuneiform, and not all of them seemed to be proper translations or he may have just pronounced them wrong.  The Latin explained the spell and gave a pronunciation, but it had to be spoken in whatever the original language was.  It had taken a lot of practice and tweaking to get it right.

But nothing in it at the time had seemed immensely useful against Bill, and before long, he forgot about it, only keeping the book out of nostalgia more than anything.  Not to mention he got distracted by everything going on in the subway, especially when he got together with William.

This book was different, though.  As Dipper concentrated on the Sanskrit next to the power words, his eyes widened at each note.  These spells were different, there was more to them, more advanced than the simple wind spell in the other book.  There was a silencing spell, a telekinetic spell, an invis-

"Pine Tree."

Dipper blinked.  He looked up, but was taken aback by Bill's proximity.  They had each been in their chairs, Bill working on his map, Dipper reading, but he was so focused on the book, he hadn't heard him move closer.  His eyes flicked up from Bill's naval to his face, an even expression etched onto his visage.  Bill stared down at him, his look intent, and for a moment Dipper didn't know for what reason.

Then Bill's eyes went back down, and Dipper's automatically followed.  A blush rushed across his cheeks as he saw the bulge in his pants.  He nodded, setting his book and his pen to the side to give his full attention to the monster.  He could hear him purr as he slowly undid his zipper and button.

"That must be some book," Bill said as Dipper took his erection out of his pants.  He let out a sigh as he made a grip around the base, working it for a few strokes.

"It's just not in English," Dipper responded.  He kept his voice as normal as he could, not wanting to reveal any of what he had found out.  He didn't want Bill to have any reason to go through any of it.  "Just... concentrating."

Bill didn't really seem to care.  He pulled on Dipper's hair, and he let himself be pushed forward, taking a little more than the head in his mouth.  He tightened his grip in the curls, moving his head further, and Dipper's throat reflexively relaxed to take in the girth.  It had been months of this, almost every night with Dipper's mouth around Bill's penis.  If there was one thing the dream monster wanted above anything else, it was his dick sucked.

And Dipper was in no place to deny him.

Dipper moved along Bill's penis with an almost practiced speed.  After so long, he knew what Bill wanted: he wanted deep and slow at first, and then his hand and quick when he was getting close.  He glided his teeth down his length, and he was rewarded with a low groan and stroke of his hair.  He put a hand on one hip, the other sliding up under his shirt.

Bill thrusted a little into his mouth, but Dipper's feigned eagerness to swallow him almost whole over and over again kept him from gagging him.  Dipper hummed against the length in his mouth when he wasn't running his tongue along the underside.

"Mm, yes," Bill said through a moan.  "You'll want it wet, Pine Tree."  His hands were in his hair, tight as they moved his head along.  "I'm going to fuck you hard tonight."

There was something in Bill's tone that made Dipper shiver.  It was similar to the nights he came back from being gone all day, when he was rough on him, but had an underlying contentment to it.  The retort he wanted to say was clearly, _When do you not_ , but his comment was swallowed as Bill's hips snapped forward to deep throat him.

Suddenly Bill was pulling him off and taking a step back.  Dipper looked up at him, panting some, his mouth still open as he waited his next command.

"Take off your clothes," Bill instructed.

He stepped back as Dipper stood from his chair, already taking his shirt off.  He threw it in the seat before quickly taking off his pants and underwear.  Bill watched him with hungry eyes, roaming his body, and grinning when he got to Dipper's half-erect member.  The human blushed, not looking at him directly.  He hated the response Bill had trained his body to, but it couldn't be helped. 

"Lay down on the floor, on your back."

Dipper did so almost instantly, only moving enough to he was away from the chair and sidetable.  He laid down, his arms at his sides, and his legs spread and propped up.  He closed his eyes, turning away as Bill kneeled in between him.  He let out a sigh as Bill took hold of his member and start to stroke it to full life.

"I'm going to fill you up, Pine Tree, until you're overflowing," Bill mentioned, his tone light.

Dipper didn't reply.  He just bit his lip when he felt Bill's tip already at his entrance.  He was grateful that despite what moisture he could leave on his erection, Bill still had the generosity to put cool lubricant on himself.  He willed his body to relax as the head was pushed inside of him.

"It might be a while before we can do this again."

Dipper's eyes flew open at the comment.  He sat up, his mouth open to question, but Bill silenced him with a bruising kiss.  He lulled Dipper to lie back down as he kissed him almost passionately.  At first, his body seized up, but when Bill's tongue graced over his, he calmed some.  He took Bill's face in his hands, kissing back as Bill continued to fully seat himself inside.  Dipper winced some, wishing there had been more foreplay, but Bill didn't seem in the mood for it.

Bill answered his unspoken question when he pulled away: "I'll be gone for a few days."  He took Dipper's hands, moving them to his sides.  He tapped his elbows, and Dipper put his arms under himself, trapping them in the small of his back, just as Bill had trained him to do.  He shivered as he felt chains wrap his forearms together.

"Where are you going?" Dipper asked.

"I have to deal with a few things," Bill answered simply.

Bill took hold of his legs, bending each so his foreleg touched the back of his thighs.  Chains wrapped around each, holding them together before both were pulled up, lifting up his lower end so it was easier for Bill to slide in and out of him.

Bill only went deep for the first thrusts.  After tying him up, he started to only move half way down his member, keeping it shallow as he continued.  "There's been some unrest with how I've decided to split things up."  He had his hands on his hips, only using his hips.  He almost looked bored.  "I've been putting it off, since you need me and all, but I can't anymore."

Dipper whined.  If Bill was going to violate him, he just wanted him to fuck him and be done with it, not tease him.  _Harder,_ he thought to himself.  He bit his lip, unwilling to announce the command.  _Fuck me harder already,_ the thought went on.

"Don't..."  He shook his head.  Despite what was going on right there, he had to focus on what he was being told.  "Please... don't leave...."

It was pathetic.  He knew it was.  But he was so used to having Bill all to himself, to having him there to keep him company, Bill was his monster, his captor, he should not be giving anyone his attention, because what if he didn't—

"Shh, calm down, Pine Tree," Bill soothed.  He leaned in again, kissing Dipper right underneath his eye.  "I don't like it when you leak."

Was he crying?  Why was he crying?  Wouldn't it be good to have a break from this?  But...

"I'll be back, I promise," Bill went on.  He slid in further that time, but he was still being too gentle.  Why was he being gentle? 

 _Fuck me right if you're going to do it,_ came the unbidden thought.

"It might be up to a week or so," Bill said.  He buried himself fully once more, this time hitting his prostate.  Dipper let out a long moan at the feeling.  "But I will come back for you, my precious tree."

"You... you promise?"

Bill had already seen his weakness for his presence.  There was no need to let him know that he had developed a weakness for his dominance over his body as well.

Bill kissed him lightly on the lips.  "I promise."  He pulled out until only his head was inside Dipper.  "Do you believe me?"

Dipper didn't answer at first, whining at the lack of feeling inside of him.  His body craved to be full again, to have him back all the way.

"Pine Tree," he said low.  "Do you believe me?"

"Yes!  Yes..."  If he answered right, Bill would finish.  He would finish, and Dipper could find something to distract himself with during his absence.  Like the book.  Yes, the book, it might be helpful, that's what he should be focused on, not how good it felt when Bill hit him just right...

"Good."

Dipper cried out when Bill slammed into him.  Bill wrapped his arms around his suspended legs, using the leverage to start a fast and hard pace.  The chains clanged a little as Dipper fidgeted, trying to angle himself so Bill would get him just right.  There was a chuckle, and his hips were lifted just a little more as he continued his hard thrusts.  He screamed out Bill's name despite himself, which earned him more and more.

 _Harder, harder,_ he kept to himself.  His head was flung back as white flickered across his sight.  He could feel his orgasm building as his own member slapped against his stomach.  He continued to cry out, only vaguely hearing Bill's moans and vulgar statements of how he always felt good.  His eyes squeezed closed as he toes curled, and he reminded himself over and over that enjoying this was a survival tactic.  The more he acted into it, the more Bill tried to make it about both of them, not just to get his rocks off.

He continued this line of thinking, only interrupted by his climax and how it spurted onto his abdomen.  Only a moment later he could feel Bill milking himself inside, filling him up with his seed.  He panted hard, ignoring him as he tried to catch his breath.

As he came back to himself, he reprimanded himself for his earlier thoughts, how for a moment it seemed he _wanted_ Bill, not just putting up with him.  He groaned, struggling against the chains again.

Bill chuckled over him through laboured breathing.  "We're not done yet, Pine Tree," he said.  He flipped Dipper over, only removing the chains on his legs so it was easier to get him on his knees.  "I told you..." he went on.  He could feel his still erect member back inside of him, already sinking in deep, pushing his semen further in.

"I want you overflowing with me."


	9. Compliance, and its Rewards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper makes due while Bill is away. But even though he enjoyed the break, he is still happy when he comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some fun writing this one. I hope you all enjoy the sexyfuntimes in this chapter. And look at me, keeping up with my once a week schedule!  
> Also, I'll be starting another long BillDip soon, though it may still be a bit more before I get it posted up here. But I am doing some sketches and work on my tumblr, so if you want a sneak peak at the Catalyst AU, give me a look over there. :3

~~::*~~*::~~

Bill was gone for five days.

The first couple of days, Dipper handled much better than other times.  He attributed to Bill's promise of return.  Every time Bill had assured him he would be back, he had been.  It was only when he left without word that Dipper had been unsure when he would see the dream monster again.

So Bill would come back.  He knew it.  He believed it.  And he hated how much he relied on that promise to remain unbroken.

Dipper's routine was not that disrupted.  The refrigerator was self-replenishing, so he could go about the day as normal as his situation would allow.  He was still writing, playing games, all that, without the over looming knowledge that he would be molested in some way.

It was almost like a vacation.

Eventually, though, the loneliness kicked in.  On the third day, Dipper went to bed, and he found himself reaching over for where Bill would lay next to him after having his way with him.  He chided himself as he clutched at the sheets.  He cursed into his pillow before rolling over and willing himself to sleep.

During the fourth day, Dipper was anxious.  His faith in Bill wavered as he reluctantly longed for his captor.  He knew what he had been told, and knew from their history that Bill would come back, but that didn't make his absence more pronounced.  He was used to him, used to his company.  And his company wasn't inherently _bad_ ; he was almost enduring, if Dipper removed himself from the situation.  But it was a revelation that Dipper was keen to ignore anytime it snuck into his mind.

Dipper had been busying himself with distraction as he waited for Bill's return, but when it stretched on long enough to trigger deep longing, he knew he had to think of something better to occupy his time with.

That's when he remembered the book.

He knew the book could be important, but it had been out of his mind at first.  The night Bill had told him he was leaving, the monster had spent hours in almost every room of the cage violating him over and over.  It had been a rather intense time, and though he hadn't really hurt Dipper in any real way (what he considered real at this point), he was still thoroughly sore the next day.  He had spent most of it in bed, even bringing his food with him and the handheld gaming device Bill had found, and did little else.

After that, he glanced at it, but his mind wasn't really in it.  He found his thoughts wandering to Bill, what he could possibly doing, when he would come back, what he would be like when he did.  There was the nagging of his own reaction to Bill's return that he ignored.

When it seemed Bill wasn't coming back right away, Dipper cracked open the spellbook, and gave it a more in-depth look.  He knew how the power words worked, being so similar to the ones in his other Grimoire, so he thought he could try a few during Bill's absence.

There was the problem, though: in the other book, the Latin that was scrawled in gave the pronunciation of the symbols.  There were no notes in this one.  He only knew what each word did by the Sanskrit, but none of it gave how to say the words.  The spells within were exactly what Dipper would have wanted.  They had even given him a flicker of hope to maybe getting out, even in a long shot. 

But this led to a dead end.  He had not truly learned the spells from before because they weren't particularly useful.  Without the Latin he relied on in the past book, all the symbols were just that: symbols.

That didn't stop him from learning these symbols, however.  He memorised how to write them, as that was part of the casting.  Where the word was written, was where the power would come when the spell was spoken.  He had found it out before from the only spell he really remembered, the lighting spell.  It was simple, and you truly could put the word on anything, and that would be the area of illumination when the word was announced.  His assumption was that this would be the same.

He spent the last few days writing the words he thought most useful over and over again, memorising them.  He knew he would probably never get to use them, but there was always a chance.  That, and it kept him entertained.

Dipper wrote down the words on paper at first, just to get the strokes down.  He burned each sheet when he was done, making sure the ashes were truly illegible before extinguishing the fire.  When he was more confident, he would take a Sharpie to his skin, putting the words in places that would be useful on his flesh.  Afterward, he would scrub the area, leaving no trace on himself even if it meant leaving his skin a little bare.

At the end of the fifth day, Dipper found himself in the bathroom, washing off the evidence of his spellwork.  There was a particularly stubborn bit of ink on his wrist that didn't seem to want to be clean.  The rest had come off just fine, albeit leaving his skin red, but the invisibility sigil was being eager to remain.  Dipper almost chuckled at the irony, when he started at someone calling his name.

Dipper flinched at what he thought he heard, willing himself to ignore it.  He had been hearing Bill's voice off and on for days, his mind playing tricks on him after months of constant attention. 

He didn't want to entertain the idea that it was longing to hear from his captor.

"Pine Tree."

His name echoed off the walls of the room and back into his ears.  He turned off the water, forgetting the last bit of the sigil he was trying to wash off, and turned to look behind him.

Bill was there, complete in his human form, though he looked slightly dishelved.  He was smirking, his mismatched eyes half lidded as he looked over Dipper.  It wasn't his usual hungry glance, it was something else, something Dipper couldn't exactly name because at that moment he didn't care.

What mattered was that he had come back.

Before he could stop himself, Dipper's arms were around Bill, and he held onto him tightly as he buried his face into his chest.  Bill chuckled, returning the hold as he pulled Dipper closer.  He nuzzled his curls in a strangely warm fashion.

"Aw, you missed me," he teased.

"Of course I didn't," Dipper spat back, though he did not move.

Bill laughed again.  He pushed Dipper away a little so he could take his chin in his index and thumb, lifting his face so their eyes could meet.  "Don't be like that," Bill said.  He leaned in, brushing his lips over Dipper's.  "I missed you."

Dipper gave Bill a cynical look.

"What took you so long?"

"In a moment," Bill answered.  He kissed him again, this time with more force.  Dipper didn't kiss back at first, but when Bill seemed intent on continuing, he opened his mouth, but that was about all the participation he felt up to for that moment.  Despite his outward reluctance to accept attention, Dipper still clung to the front of his shirt, lest he suddenly disappeared.

When Bill pulled away, he had a large grin on his lips.  "I haven't had you in so long," he said.

Dipper rolled his eyes.  "It's only been five days," he reminded him. 

Bill's hands were already at Dipper's clothes, and he lifted his arms as he removed his shirt.  "Five too many, honestly."

Dipper wanted to remind him that there had been days when Bill hadn't touched him at all, as few and far between as they had been, but he had a feeling it wouldn't matter.  Bill's eyes were roaming his body once more, this time with the familiar lust.  Any correction to their sexual history would fall on deaf ears as Bill tugged at his pants.

"I have questions," Dipper insisted.

"And you'll get answers, promise," Bill retorted.  "First, I'm going to fuck your face."

Dipper still helped to get himself undressed, but he was a little ruffled by Bill's eagerness.  He had fully expected Bill to come after him when he came back, but not this quickly nor with the level of need dripping off of his presence.

"And probably more.  Then answers."

"Bill, wait-" Dipper urged, just wanting one moment of thought before the inevitable.

"Knees," Bill interrupted. " _Now_."

Dipper subconsciously obeyed.  He got down on the floor, still wiggling out of his pants.  While he was throwing his trousers to the other side of the room, Bill was unzipping his own.  Dipper had barely brought his attention back to him before Bill's hand was gripped into his hair and pulling him onto his member that had only a fraction of life in it.  But this wasn't the first time Dipper had had his face shoved onto the flaccid flesh, and he was quick to start sucking and bobbing to encourage him to full length.

"I've been thinking about that mouth of yours since I left," Bill said through heady breath.  He was pulling on Dipper's hair, but he didn't really need to with the human's learned behaviour.  "Pyronica had brought their little pet with them: it was hard not to want to fuck you with that visual around."

There was a lot to process from that comment.  Dipper knew that he would be among his follow criminals, the highest of his gang that he had brought with him from the Nightmare Realm, but he had never really given it that much thought what they might be doing.  Dipper hadn't even seen them much in the past several years, only the various creatures and chaotic events Bill had let loose on the world.  What had they been doing during that time?

In fact, what had Bill been doing when he wasn't hunting Dipper or keeping him in a cage?

From what Bill had said, it sounded like they may doing something similar to humans that Bill was doing to him.  That sent a shiver down his spine.  A moment of guilt hit him, too, as he pulled away from Bill slowly.  That meant there were others in his situation, being humiliated like him, and he had the audacity to let himself even beginning to enjoy it sometimes.  What a saviour of humanity he had turned into.

Dipper had looked up at him, eyes unsure and searching.  He was telling himself he was bothered by the context, that there were others being abused, too, but that wasn't the only thing that tugged at his mind.

"You didn't..."

"Don't worry, Pine Tree," Bill soothed, running a hand down his cheek.  "You're the only one for me."  He led Dipper back onto himself, and he opened his mouth once more.  "The only human I find any value in..."

A shudder went over his whole body at the praise, and he groaned when it hit him down below.  He hated himself, hated how the kind words had that kind of effect, but it did, and he needed it.  Needed more of it, and needed more of Bill.  Being with him was the only way to ensure he wouldn't be lonely again, so he would do anything to get those words and more, subject himself however he needed to if it meant he would feel Bill's hand playing with his hair like he was now.

Bill held on to his head as he took a step back.  Dipper stayed in place, letting his body be straightened forward.  Dipper continued to move his mouth, humming along Bill's full length.

"It's been a while," Bill reiterated his earlier statement.  "And you've been so patient, haven't you?"  His hands stroked Dipper's face and hair.  "Been a good boy while waiting for me, haven't you?"

Dipper's acknowledgement was muffled by the flesh in his mouth.  He looked up at him, eyes showing his sincerity.  He had been good, he had believed him, there may have been a moment of doubt, but he was a good boy, he knew Bill wouldn't break his promise.

"Did you think about me, Pine Tree?"

Dipper gagged a little, taking him too far.  Of course he had, but how openly did he want to admit to that?

Bill snickered.  "I'll be good to you then," he said.  "Spread."

Dipper nodded again.  He waited until Bill's hands were tight with their grip on the base of his neck, giving him the leverage to reach back.  He pulled at each cheek, spreading his buttocks, revealing his entrance.  It wasn't more than a breath before he felt the slicked shadow tendril poking at him.  It was smaller than usual, a little bit bigger than a finger.  He groaned against Bill as the limb pushed its way inside of him.

"Only enough to get you ready," Bill went on.  He was moving his hips in time with Dipper's mouth, and Dipper was moving back against the tendril as it began to move in and out of him.  It was easy to relax around the smaller girth, and he was silently grateful, always preferring the foreplay to being straight away fucked.

"It was distracting, you know."  Dipper grunted as the tendril grew some, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling, especially when it was angled right to hit him in just the right way.  "Thinking about pounding you into the ground, instead of getting shit done."

Dipper had to catch himself when another limb forced its way inside, his palms hitting the tile as he tried to keep himself up.  He was now being pushed forward forcefully, and he had to adjust to take Bill's full length when he was being thrust upon it.

Suddenly everything was gone: the shadow limbs from his backside, Bill's member from his mouth.  Instead, Bill's hand was around his throat, and he gasped for air as he was lifted swiftly and almost effortlessly and slammed into the mirror.  He winced, though his head hadn't connected too hard, thankfully.  Bill removed his hand in favour to take Dipper's wrists and put them above his head.

There was a crunching sound, a noise Dipper couldn't place at first.  He winced as something cold and prickly wrapped around his wrists.  He looked up to see the mirror had morphed and protruded from itself to extend mirrored hands to hold tight to him.  He was used to the chains, but this, bits of the mirror were sticking into his skin.  It wasn't exactly painful, more annoying than anything, and almost completely distracted him from Bill.

But his attention was quickly brought back by the phallus sinking deep inside of him.

Though grateful for the stretching and the lubricant Bill thankfully remembered, Dipper still called out as he was roughly taken over the bathroom counter.  Bill had lifted him up, putting the back of his shins on his shoulders as he penetrated him over and over.  There was no more foreplay, no teasing; he wanted him, and he was going to have him.

Dipper struggled against the glass hands, biting his lip as a part of him almost begged for the chains.  He thought it would be ignored, though, and he made the effort to just focus on his lower half instead, swallowing the irony that he normally would be avoiding it.  He winced, clamping his eyes shut and turning away as Bill thrusted hard into him.

"Oh, no, my little tree," Bill said in a low tone.  He took Dipper's face in hand again, turning him to face him.  "Look at me," he commanded.  Dipper didn't at first, biting his lip as he tried to claim some control over the situation.

" _Look at me._ "

Bill's tone was more than a demand, it was dangerous.  Dipper opened his eyes, staring right into Bill's narrowed gaze.  Bill took this as an invitation to kiss him roughly, and despite his brief bravado, Dipper found himself kissing back.

"Only me," Bill said when he finally pulled away.  "You should only be thinking about me when I fuck you."

"I wasn't-"

"But you do."  He accented the point with a rather deep thrust.  "You have."  Dipper cried out when he continued the rough thrusts.  "But no more."

Dipper didn't say anything.  He was just looking up at Bill, grunting with each thrust, and trying to avoid the pleasantness that such violation was to his constantly misused body.  He had a brief thought, would William have been this-

" _You are mine_ ," Bill's voice interrupted the thought. 

Dipper held his gaze, but it was hard to keep as he was getting closer and closer to his climax.  He didn't know what had gotten into Bill, why he was acting so possessive.  He had no one to contend with, other than a memory that he had a part in making.

What had happened while he was away?

"Say it," Bill commanded.  His speed was picking up, and he knew he was getting close.  He hoped that he would get tired after this, like he seemed to on these more intense nights.  He just wanted it over.

"Bill-"

"Say it," Bill demanded again.  "You know it's true, you know you want to."

Dipper's eyes narrowed.  He didn't _want_ to, but he knew it was true.  He owned his body; there was no doubt as he continued to pound into him, his own orgasm soon to come.  Even his mind was his; he had made sure of it with the months of training.  Even a small part of his heart, that was his, if only in the memory of William.

But admit to it?

" _Dipper_."

He shuddered at the use of his name.  He didn't do it often, but whenever he did, it sent a pleasant thrill through his body.

"Yours," Dipper finally admitted in a small voice.

"Louder."

"Yours," he said a little louder.  Bill lifted his backside up and angled himself deep and right where he needed to be, and Dipper screamed as his vision flicked with spots.  "Yours!" he shouted as Bill thrusted in him again and again.

Bill's hand moved from his face to the hair on the nape of his neck.  He bent his head back as far as he could, so he could sink his teeth into the triangle marking at the base of his neck.  "Say you belong to me."

"I belong to you," Dipper repeated.  His breath hitched when Bill's teeth went deeper.

"I'm the only one you want touching you."

Dipper was almost there, just a few more...  His body was moving against his will, wanting more of Bill, to feel him deep inside of him, just the right way. 

"Bill-"

"Anyone could have had you," Bill said.  "But you wanted me, before and now."

"Yes, yes, Bill, but I'm going to-"

Bill's hand was suddenly on his penis, squeezing tight around the base, and Dipper's breath caught in his throat as his climax eluded him.

"Bill!" he shouted.  He gave him a pleading look.  He had been so close, so, so close...

"Do you know why I keep you here?"

"Because you don't want me to run?" Dipper said without thinking.  He hoped it was what he wanted to hear.  Bill was still moving into his body, and he wanted him to come so he could, and this awkward moment of vulnerability would be over, because he didn't want to really think about what Bill was talking about, he just wanted him to fuck him and go to bed.

"Because you're mine, and I don't want to share," Bill corrected.

Dipper nodded absent mindedly.  "You don't have to share," he said without thought.  "I'm yours, just please-"

Bill snickered.  "All right, Pine Tree."  He let go of his penis.  He took both of his legs in hand, and slammed into him several times.  Dipper yelled loud as his climax washed over him, the feeling so intense that his vision was blurry as he released onto himself.

Bill pulled out, ejaculating on Dipper's chest, mixing with his semen.  Dipper didn't even seem to notice as he panted, still coming down from the orgasm.  He slumped forward when the mirrored hands let go of his wrists, and Bill caught him before he fell to the floor.

Bill held him for several moments, and Dipper could hear his laboured breathing, though it sounded like it was far away.  Finally, he pushed him back, leaning him against the mirror.  He made sure he was steady before leaving his side and walking over to the large tub that was adjacent to the shower stall.

Dipper watched him, his eyes half lidded.  He absently touched the marking at the base of his neck, wincing at the prominent teeth marks.  Bill turned on the water.  He stood up, stretched, and then started to remove his own clothes.  After he was naked and his clothes thrown to the side, he turned back to Dipper, a lazy smile on his lips.

"Come, Pine Tree."

Dipper nodded without realising it.  It took him a moment, but he finally slid off the counter, his feet hitting the tile with a dull thud.  He almost slipped, but caught himself.  His legs were shaky, the phantom feeling of Bill still deep inside of him lingering about his body.  He made his way over to the tub to join Bill, who was already relaxing with his eyes closed.

Bill slowly opened his eyes to watch Dipper when the water moved with the dip of his toe.  He adjusted a little, sitting up just a bit as he offered his hand.  Dipper narrowed his eyes at the outstretched hand.  But Bill just smiled up at him, and Dipper found himself reluctantly taking it and being led into the tub.  He sat in front of him, back to Bill's front, and he found arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.

Bill let out a sigh as he rested his chin on Dipper's head.  His breathing was slow: he could both hear it and feel it as his chest moved.  They were quiet for a long moment, winding down from the intense activity.  Dipper concentrated on the water moving around them, the nuke warm temperature lulling him into a sense of comfort.  These moments weren't all that rare, though: Bill would hold him most nights, right after they were done, and he would be asleep shortly after.

Dipper hadn't put too much thought into, but he figured that with Bill's physical body came some limitations.  He breathed, he sweated, he could achieve many human functions, and a conclusion could be made that fatigue was also part of the package.  He remembered when William would relax easily after their intimate sessions, and when he was willing to admit they were the same person, it was similar to those times.  He just suspected that something about maintaining the form was taxing, and the only way to remain in it was to rest.

After all, he never dropped it when he was William.

Dipper had questions still, but he opted to be content in the quiet moment.  He played with the water a little, as he listened to Bill's soft breathing.  He wondered if he was dozing off.

Dipper looked over his wrists, inspecting the pricks of the glass from before.  There were abrasions where the mirrored hands had held him, but it stung only lightly, nothing that a couple of days wouldn't heal.  He could tell where there would be bruises, where the fingers dug in, but it wasn't the worst Bill had done to him.  He noticed that among the little cuts were the remnants of the sigil he had drawn on himself before.  He hadn't finished washing it off before Bill had arrived, but he still got enough off that it would be hard to discern what it was originally.

Dipper quickly scrubbed off the rest during the moment he knew Bill wouldn't be paying attention.  He would need to still handle the cuts later, but Bill had left him with plenty of means to take care of such things.

"Bill?" he ventured.  He leaned back just a little more, relaxing completely against him.  Bill didn't respond at first, his hold still around him but loose.  "Bill."

Bill hummed in response, but didn't move more than to nuzzle Dipper's slightly damp hair.

Dipper sighed.  He picked up the soap from the dish at the side of the tub and started to wash his chest of the remains of their escapades.  "Bill," he said again, this time louder.  "You promised."

Bill lifted his head, leaning back against the wall of the tub wall.  He ran his hands over Dipper's shoulders absently.  "I did?"

Dipper rolled his eyes.  "Bill."

"Yes, yes, I know," he said.  "Go ahead, ask away."

"Where were you?"

"I think it was called Siberia at one point.  Frightfully cold, not a huge fan."

"Siberia?  Why?"

"No one really wanted it, so we consider a neutral zone."

Dipper put the soap back when he was done.  He started to splash water on his chest that wasn't submerged to finish the job.  "Are you in a war or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that."  Bill ran his hands through Dipper's hair.  "We're just... in a dispute, how things should be divided up.  I tried to make things fair, but some of them are getting awfully greedy."

"You?  Fair?"

Bill chuckled.  "Despite what you believe, I can be."  He hummed.  "I owe them some gratitude; they've been with me since I first broke out of the two-dimensional universe.  But I can only give so much, since it was me who truly made all of this possible."  His hands returned to Dipper's sides.  "At this point, they're just suckling at my teat.  I don't have to do anything for them except out of kindness."

"And let me guess," Dipper said, "your kindness can go only so far."

Dipper startled when he felt teeth at the back of his neck.  "You know how it goes."

He shuddered.  "So is... is everything okay now?  Will you have to leave again?"

"Oh, my precious little tree..."  Bill's teeth moved along his skin.  "Are you worried?"

"No, I just..."  Dipper scowled, though it went unseen.  "Shut up."

Bill laughed.  "Everything should be settled.  Not everyone was happy, but who cares."  His grip on Dipper tightened under the waters.  "I own this world.  It's mine to decide what happens."

"...just like me," Dipper said softly.

"Yes, like you, but with an exception."  Bill nipped at his ear.

"What exception is that?"

Bill leaned in to say low into his ear: "I'm not willing to share you."

Dipper shivered again.  This time he blamed it on the cooling temperature of the water, not the chilling but truthful words.

"The water..."

Bill chuckled.  "Of course."  He ran a hand over the surface, and within a moment, the chill was gone as the waters warmed up.

"What all is yours?" Dipper asked with genuine curiosity.

"Everything, when you think about it," Bill retorted.

Dipper scoffed.

"The Americas, for the most part.  I gave up a section of the east coast and the Amazon, but the rest is mine."

Dipper raised a brow, turning slightly to look at Bill.  "That's all you wanted?"

"I can take back any of it when I see fit," Bill reassured.  "Besides, let them have their fun."  He ran a hand over Dipper's shoulder blade.  "I enjoy being here."

Dipper looked away from him, biting his lip.  He was torn by the admission: it meant that he was forever to his cage with the monster, but there was still a part of him that preferred it to Bill leaving all the time again.  If the issue was really settled, he would be staying all the time again.  And that glimmer of stability sounded delightful in Dipper's head before he stopped to remember what it meant.

"You've been good lately," Bill said after a long moment of quiet.  "So... cooperative.  And pleasing."  He was making symbols on Dipper's back that felt oddly like triangles.  "I think I should reward you."

Dipper ran his hand over the surface of the water mindlessly.  He didn't pay Bill too much mind; when he normally said he would 'reward' him, it meant more that he would give Dipper a night off or get him off without expecting anything in return.  Nothing Dipper really wanted, but still took with gratitude, lest his captor would withhold such treatment from his indefinitely.

"What is something you'd like, Pine Tree?"

His ears perked at the question.  He had asked for things he needed before, but not something he would like.  Dipper thought long on his answer.  There were plenty of things he would like, but what was something Bill would let him have?  Something...

Dipper was glad Bill could not see his face when his eyes lit up at an idea.

"Books."

Bill hummed.  "Of course," he said.  "I knew you would go through that whole lot sooner or later.  Where should I get you some more?  I have a few suggestions, there's this library I heard of-"

"The ones in the subway," Dipper interrupted.  He made sure his tone was quiet, submissive, asking.  He looked at Bill out of the corner of his eye, as he leaned into Bill.  He reached behind him, running a hand over Bill's chest.

"Subway, huh?"  Bill hummed thoughtfully as Dipper's hand moved over him.  He settled back, letting him do as he pleased.  "Which ones?  I'll get them for you."

Dipper turned around some, so his side could rest on Bill's chest.  He moved his hand further down, his nails lightly skimming over Bill's abdomen.  "There are a few different ones, ones I hadn't read, my journals..."

"Your notes on how to kill me?" Bill teased.  His eyes were half-lidded as he watched Dipper's face.

Dipper smirked at him.  "How useful were they, though?" he admitted.  His palm went lower, gracing over Bill's member.  Bill made a low noise, almost like a purr.  "But I'm sure you were throwing me off on purpose, weren't you?"

Bill shrugged, a smile on his lips.  "I wouldn't say throwing you off," he replied.  "More like... distracting."

Dipper wrapped his palm around Bill's flaccid length, stroking it lightly.  "Then you know I just want them for... nostalgia."  He laid completely in Bill's side, nuzzling into his neck.  "There were other things than you in there, other creatures, other memories..."

"That is true."  Bill adjusted, sinking a little more into the tub, a low noise leaving his throat.  He had an arm around Dipper, tracing his skin.  "Nothing more than entertaining, now is it?"

Dipper nodded.  Bill was now fully erect in his hand, and he applied a little more pressure as he moved.  "But I never really learned which book is which.  I need to see them to know which ones I need."

"I could just bring them all back," Bill insisted.

"Bill..." Dipper said softly against his skin.  "It would be nice, if..."

Bill's look evened out, almost looking concerned.  "You want to leave?"

"Just for a little while," Dipper assured.  "Just a little fresh air.  I've been cooped up here..."  He resituated himself, straddling Bill's lap, though it meant scrunching up his legs.  The tub was a fairly nice width, but not enough to fit the situation just right.  Dipper shuddered as he felt Bill's length grace his backside.  He had to keep him focused, though, while still distracting him.

Dipper took Bill's hand, laying it across the base of his throat, right over the triangle mark.  Bill watched him quietly, his eyes fixed hard on Dipper's face.

"You can put a collar on me," Dipper went on.  "Lead me around by a leash."  The words were disgusting in his head, but he knew Bill would like it, would be more inclined to listen to him if he said just the right thing.

Bill's fingers twitched, and for a moment he had a light grip on Dipper's throat.  "That would be pleasant to see," he admitted.  "Like taking my pet out for a walk."

Dipper leaned in some.  "Yes, like a pet."

"Are you going to be a good boy for me, Pine Tree?"  Bill led him forward, their lips almost touching.

"Yes, Bill..."  He moved his hips, eliciting a long groan from Bill.  "I'll be a good boy."

Bill's lips graced Dipper's, and the human kissed back.  "You must really want this," he mused.

"Were you always going to keep me like this?" Dipper asked, tone still submissive.

"No, not always."  He stroked his face with his free hand.  "I was waiting... waiting for you to be more... compliant."

"Let me show you, then," Dipper said.  He lifted up his hips, backing himself onto the tip of Bill's erection.  He didn't want to do this, to show him that he in any way wanted him, but he knew it would work.  It was what Bill always wanted: not a servant, but a submissive companion.  "Let me show you you can trust me."

Dipper grunted when he was lifted and turned.  He found the side of his face flat against the tiled wall of the tub, his palms coming up to stop him from being fully forced against it.  He could feel Bill's head at his entrance, and it would be nothing for him to start again, after the activity earlier.

"You'll have to stay close to me," Bill said hotly in his ear.  "You aren't ready to be on your own out there, not yet, I haven't gotten to finish with you."

Dipper let out a moan as Bill pushed into him.  He would give in, let him have him without objection, with almost want, if it meant he would be given this chance.

"Will you be my good boy?"

"Yes... Yes, your good boy..."

"Then we'll go get your books," Bill said as he slowly sank into Dipper.  "But tomorrow."  He grunted when he was fully seated.

"Tonight, you'll show me how good you are."


	10. New Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill takes Dipper into the subway to find his books. Among what he finds, is a renewed since of determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little bit of latency. Holidays and all that. I can't wait until things are calmed down more so I can do this fic more readily as well as the Catalyst AU. Thanks to everyone still reading! I read every comment, and I'm going to try and start responding to all them. <3

It felt odd to Dipper to be back in the subway.

He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed since he ran away from the community's demise, but it was enough that the tunnels felt like a tomb.  They had once been vibrant, with life of humans, animals, and flora, but now, it was eerily quiet. 

It sent shivers up Dipper's spine.

They had gone through Dipper's morning routine before leaving.  Dipper was grateful for it, as he didn't think he could do anything of use on an empty stomach, especially after the activity of the night before.  Bill had him two more times before finally rolling over and falling asleep.

Bill was not quick to wake that morning.  That part had bothered him, as he had to will himself to wait for when he would rouse.  Too much eagerness would seem suspicious.  He didn't want Bill to withdraw his 'kindness' for any reason.  He had to keep up the front that he simply was accepting his captor's appreciation while also testing his boundaries.

After all, he couldn't be too obvious.

When Bill woke, he still seemed in a good enough mood.  He only went after him so much before letting him go to start his day.  The dream monster tried to follow him into the bathroom, but he pushed him out, saying he actually wanted to get clean this time.

They shared breakfast, something Bill every now and again did with him, and it was almost pleasant.  They talked casually, Dipper asking a few more questions, and Bill wondering what Dipper would be looking for in the books.  He was really sussing him out, making sure he wasn't after certain books, ones that Dipper had poured over, thinking they would be the best for defeating him. 

Dipper mentioned one of them, on purpose, to which Bill scoffed at.  He feigned ignorance at first, seeming to hesitate before 'remembering' why that wouldn't be all right to bring back.  He apologised and told him he would give him that one and the others to do with what he pleased.

After all, it wasn't the one he was really looking for.

He would keep up the act, which he was giving into him, that he craved _his_ touch more than he truly just wanted _any_ touch.  It was what Bill wanted, though, for Dipper to want him, and he seemed more to oblige Dipper's requests when the human responded in kind.

Dipper knew what was at stake to keep up the charade.  He would have to continue Bill's claim over his body because it would lead to him lowering his guard, as it already had.  And all he had to do was give in to him in an intimate setting, over and over again.  It was degrading, humiliating, and sometimes more than exhausting.

But Bill could be doing a lot worse to him, and he knew that.  The situation he was in was bad, but not the worst, by far.

After they were done eating, Bill had let Dipper finish getting ready (which was really only Dipper grabbing a few pens and things, he didn't need much else), before they would be heading off to the subway.  Bill had gone over some rules before they were to leave.  He made it very clear they would not be going up above, that the entire time would be spent in the subway.  He wasn't going to give him a collar – he off-handedly mentioned there was something he wanted to do before giving him one – but he was going to keep his wrists bound and lead him by that.  He wasn't to be out of his sight for even a moment, but he was allowed to ask to go to anywhere in the community with permission.  He said he would give him plenty of time to find his books, but also made it clear he wanted to be done by nightfall.

Dipper agreed easily.  He put his hands out in front of him, his wrists together, allowing Bill to thread a pair of shackles around his wrists of golden light and tight iron.  From the middle was a strong of what gleaned like diamond, connecting to Bill, disappearing under the cuff of his jacket.  He then pulled Dipper close, whispering in his ear that he should close his eyes.

When he opened them, they were in the subway.

True to what Bill had said, they were just on the platform at the track that would lead down into the community.  He was quick to pull him down the tracks, even before his gaze could flick over to the steps leading up and out.

Dipper had not thought much about what had happened when he was last here, not since a couple of months into his captivity.  Thinking of it had only furthered his depression, and he found the best thing was to try and put it out of his mind completely.  He had not thought of the liquid flame that consumed everything, he had not thought of nightmares that ate his friends, had not thought of the demise of his sister in detail.  He almost wished he had, to prepare himself for the things he had tried so hard to forget.

Instead, he spent the first hour there, crying over the pile of thread his sister had become.

For the time, Dipper had forgotten why they were there.  He forgot why he had ever asked to come back to this tomb.  Bill held him as he did, running a hand through his hair, but not once asking him to stop.  In those moments, he forgot whose arms it was.  In those moments, he could feel William's breath on his neck, like he had the night Wendy had died.  He almost felt comforted.

When he felt like he had no more in him, Dipper moved himself from Bill's hands.  He knew who it was, the culprit for all of this.  It did not matter how he treated him, Bill was the cause for all of his anguish.

But he would not be the one to make him give up on hope.

"Are you done leaking?"

Dipper just glared at him, not even bothering to wipe away the tracks of his tears.

"Here."

Bill took Mabel's remains, and with a flick of his wrist, he was holding a little casket with the shooting star symbol carved into it.  He held it out to Dipper, a sincere look to his eyes.  "What would you like to do with this?"

Dipper hesitated.  He took the wooden container from him, holding it close.  He bit his lip as he thought.  "...I want to keep it."

Bill nodded.  He kissed him on his temple before he started to walk off, Dipper forced to follow by the diamond tether.  He kept a tight hold on the coffin as they went along.

Dipper asked to explore the tunnels before heading to the trains where he and William had stayed.  It was a morbid curiosity, but he wanted to know what had become of their efforts.  Bill obliged him, leading him throughout the tunnels. 

Along the way, they saw all the destruction that Bill's minions had caused.  The crops that had flourished under sunlamps were rotten and crushed.  The different trains, melted and rolled.  Bodies laid everywhere, in various arrangements and stages of decomposition, most not even in the form of humans any longer.

Dipper took it all in.  This is what he needed to see.  This was what he needed to drive him forward.  This was what reminded him he could not give in simply.

With a deep breath, he turned to Bill.  The monster gave him an even look, but he did not have his usual smirk.  There was something sombre about him, as if he was being respectful to Dipper's situation.  It wasn't something he had been expecting, but he was glad for it.  He didn't know how much of Bill's usual snark he could handle at the moment.

"Mine and... our place," Dipper started, making sure he used the correct terminology, "is it still... intact?"

Bill smiled some as he started to lead toward the train cars.  "Call me selfish, but I couldn't find it in me to destroy it."

"Of course," Dipper said with a click of his tongue.  He went with him into their former home, which was further down the tunnel.  When Dipper had first picked out his train car, back when the community was still new, he had asked for one with two cars, just so he had room to work on the 'Triangle Problem.'  He had been welcomed to it, as most of them held hope he would come up with something.  But the only one with such an arrangement was way back in the recess of the subway.

Later on, he just found that useful for private time with his boyfriend.  But he would rather not think about that.

"Home sweet home," Bill said as he opened the door for Dipper.

He rolled his eyes as he went inside.  He looked around, taking in the sight of his home just months ago.  The first car was the more homey space, with a kitchen table, chairs, dressers, and the bed.  Dipper ran a finger over the surface of the table, squinting at the amount of dust he picked up.

"Bill?" Dipper asked, still looking over the area of cobwebs and dust.

"Yes, Pine Tree?"

Dipper started when the voice was closer to his ear than he was expecting.  Bill chuckled.

He shook his head.  He held up his wrists for Bill to see.  "May I...?"

Bill smirked a little, looking over his frame before nodding.  He closed the door to the train car before coming back to him, putting his palms around the shackles on his wrists.

"You're going to be my good boy, right?"  He leaned in as the metal and light disappeared.

Dipper nodded.  When his wrists were freed, he ran his hand along his shoulder, his fingers gracing his neck.  "Yes, your good boy."  He kissed him on the cheek.  "I'll just be in the other car..."

Bill put his arms around Dipper's lower back, pulling him close.  He took Dipper's chin in his index and thumb, meeting his eyes with an even expression.  "We're here, you know."  His lips were in a straight line, and something about it made Dipper anxious.  "You can tone it down."

Dipper's eyes widened for just a moment.  He shook his head and gave Bill a more casual look.  He pulled away, and he let him go.  "Too obvious, huh?"

His smirk returned.  "Don't think I don't enjoy it," he said.  He maneuverer around Dipper, swatting him on the rear as he urged him toward the second car. 

Dipper yelped at the action, shooting Bill a glare.  He turned and went on to the other car, the one that was lined with his books, biting his lip. 

Bill knew Dipper was playing him.  He had known that Dipper's behaviour was feigned, that he still wasn't completely on bored with Bill's 'affections.'  But he still brought him here.  He still led him through the tunnels, still trusted him among the remains of a world he once knew.

As Dipper put Mabel's tiny coffin on the desk in the car, he realised why he was getting such treatment: Bill didn't really know what he was up to.  That had to be it.  If he knew what Dipper was really here for, he would have stopped him, would have told him no and probably punished him for even asking.  But he hadn't, he had agreed.  What that meant was simple: Bill would play along with Dipper's manipulations because he didn't believe himself to be manipulated.  He had mentioned he wasn't always going to keep him inside, that he was just waiting for... something.  All Dipper did was convince him to do so before his original intention to.

Dipper mentally kicked himself as he wondered if he truly had to show sexual interest in Bill to get his way.  He sighed, though he chided himself, but told himself that it was still for the best.  Bill was still more susceptible to oblige him this way, as he had shown before, if it meant that he would get something out of it all. 

Dipper picked up a book from the rows of shelves, one of his journals that he had mentioned to Bill.  He flipped through it a little, to remind himself of his attempts to thwart Bill in the early days of their rebellion.  The one he had picked up was when he was thirteen to fourteen, as he had one for each year.  He read a few of the pages, a bittersweet smile coming to his lips as he read the almost hopeful lines he had written back then.

He started when he felt an arm sneak around his side, grabbing for another book on the shelf.  Bill pressed himself to Dipper's back, putting his other hand on his shoulder.  Dipper's eyes followed as he pulled out a tattered old tome that they had found somewhere along the line.  It was one he had liked, but as he lifted it up, he knew why Bill didn't want him to have it.

"Do you... do you want to go through them all first?" Dipper offered.  He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the answer would be no.  He wanted him to leave him as he looked, he wanted to sneak it all by him, but it would look better this way, he knew.

Bill looked at him, smirk still in place.  "I know which ones," he said simply.  The one book floated in the air as he started to go through the rest of the shelves. 

It only took him a few more minutes before he had five books floating in the air.  A couple were magick books, but the other three were about eldritch beasts.  He snapped his fingers, and the five lit in blue flames.  Dipper watched them burn, silently grateful he had stayed away from the one he really needed.  Bill's eyes were on the flames as well, his arms still around Dipper.

"I know you liked that one," he said low into his ear.  "But I'm sure there's more here that are better."  He nuzzled the side of his head before letting go, looking over the shelves once more.  "And sometime later, we'll go find you more witches' houses and the like.  That's where you found the one, right?"

"It was a Lovecraft book," Dipper noted.  His eyes were scanning the shelves, trying to ignore how close Bill still was.  "I can get that at a bookstore."  He paused when he came to the one book he was really wanting.  He pulled out one off the shelf above it and opened it.

"I don't see why you're bothered by Fishmen," Dipper off handedly mentioned.

Bill laughed.  He pulled a thick book off the shelf.  "I forget you humans see this as simple stories."  He tucked the book under his arm as he turned to step away.

"Stories?"

He looked over his shoulder, grinning.  "I'll tell you another time," he answered.  "You need to get to finding your books."  He sat at the table in the first car.  He was within eyesight as he put his feet on the table and opened the book.  "Try not to take too long, right?"

Dipper gave him a long look.  "I'll try not to," he said.

Bill nodded to him before he turned to engross himself in the book.  Dipper held in his sigh of relief.  Though Bill could be seen between the two cars, his attention came to the demon reference book in his hands. 

He probably felt at ease, as the door next to him was the only real way out.  They had covered up the side doors with furniture after welding them shut.  The other door in the second car had been blocked by a shelfing unit, making it impossible for Dipper to move it aside without getting Bill's attention.  The connection of the two cars had been closed up, an archway of sorts being welded on to prevent any drafts from coming in.  All the windows were either covered up or just too small for Dipper to really get through.  They were meant to be opened if needed, not for an escape route.

It just hadn't been a thing that came up before.

Dipper went through the book in his hands, reading aloud to himself, as he was ought to do here and again.  All he was trying to be sure was that nothing was out of the ordinary.  That all his 'playing' had been to get these books.  He gave glances to Bill out of the corner of his eyes, but the monster seemed to pay him no mind.

Thankful for the little bit of privacy, Dipper went about his true task.  He put the book he had been reading back on the shelf in favour of grabbing at the spell book he wanted.  He brought it over to the desk, opening it up to the end of its pages.  Sprawled out was the same Cuneiform from the other spellbook, along with the scribbled in Latin.

Dipper found himself smiling.  There was hope, here in these pages.

Dipper left the book for the moment, grabbing at a few other ones.  He set them up on the desk, and started to go through them.  He had mild interest in them, but he planned on only taking so many with him.  At some point, he found his old backpack, the same one he had with him during his first summer at Gravity Falls.  Bill had given him a questioning look, but Dipper commented the nostalgia felt good.  That seemed a good enough reason for Bill.

The next couple of hours, Dipper spent going between all the books on the shelves and the spellbook on the desk.  He muttered along with the words so that it wouldn't seem suspicious when he fumbled with the Latin for the spells.  He had made a quick sheet of the Cuneiform symbols from the book still in his cage, done in a hurry when Bill had told him to get ready for their trip.  There were several of the power words he wanted, but when it came down to it, only a handful of them made it to the paper, lest Bill catch on that he wasn't writing a list of books to grab.

Dipper took the time to use the Latin scribbles as a cypher to find the pronunciation for the sigils he had brought with him.  It took time, with how he was having to go about it, but he finally was able to get them on the sheet.  All the while, he was whispering them to himself, getting more and more familiar with how they sounded and making sure they were right.  Most of them had to have a combination of the sigil plus the spoken word.  He had been practicing the written part over the past week, until he knew how to write it without hesitation.  Some worked without the sigil, like the Fatigue, Pain, and Calm spells, while others could be used with just the word, like Fade, Find, and some of the trap spells.

Dipper knew the ones in his first book had worked.  Almost all of them had been non-offensive spells, and he had tried them for the year after he found the book.  The Fatigue spell had been particularly nice, as it was about the only thing that helped with the nightmares he suffered after the aftermath of Bill's coming.  The new book had given him some more useful things, albeit still not what would be considered 'attacking' other than the Pain, and those were the ones Dipper found more promise in.

Dipper had brought with him pens and a Sharpie from the cage.  They were inconspicuous items, things Bill would know that he had on him at all times from when he was younger, something he would have known as William.  So when the scratching of his pen on paper became audible through the cars, Bill did little more than look up briefly before looking back at whatever page he was on.

Occasionally, Bill would walk into the car, for what Dipper assumed was from boredom.  The chair made a distinct creaking noise when he did, so it was easy for him to make sure he was looking at any other book than the spellbook.  Bill would look over his shoulder, make some quip about what he was reading, before his interest waned.  He would look through the shelved, pick up another one, than return to his seat.  Somewhere during this, he would touch Dipper in some way, either kissing him or smacking his ass, but nothing more than that.

When it was stretching into the third hour, it was clear that Bill was getting a little antsy.  He was getting up more and more, but Dipper still needed just a little more time, just enough to make sure he had everything he needed.

Bill might have known Dipper was using his 'wiles' on him, but he left it clear that it was still an option available to him.  When it had only been five minutes since his last little check in, Dipper decided he needed him to back off for just one last, long stretch.  That should do it, he thought.

Bill was over his shoulder when he leaned back into him.  With a hum, Bill was quick to wrap his arms around his middle, nuzzling into his neck.

"I'm bored," he mentioned into his skin.  He nipped at the area, sending a chill down his spine.

"I know," Dipper retorted.  He reached back, tangling his fingers in Bill's hair.  "But you coming in here isn't helping me get done faster."

Bill growled, biting harder.  "I can just take you away, you know that."

Dipper turned around, smiling lightly at him.  "I have a couple more I need to look at, uninterrupted."  He kissed Bill gently beneath his chin.  "Just a little more patience, please?  I would really... appreciate it."  His voice had a more subtle tone for the last part.

Bill looked him, the gears going as Dipper's words clicked into place.  His lips curled into a grin.  "All right, Pine Tree."  He pulled him in for a quick but rough kiss.  "Not too much longer, yes?"

He nodded.  "Just a bit more, then we can go back."

Bill left his side then, sitting back in his seat.  He gave Dipper one last long look before going back to his book.

Dipper waited a few more moments, pretending to continue reading the one in his hands before setting it to the side.  He took one of his journals off the shelf, sitting down at the desk as he seemed to pour over the words.  He glanced over at Bill, making sure his attention was away from him, and then he set out to test the spells as secretly as he could. 

He scribbled the sigil for Invisibility on one of the pages in the back of the journal.  He whispered the power word, translated from the cypher he had made, and watched as not just the words but the paper itself disappeared before his eyes.  He didn't do anything at first, and then he went to flip the page.  It was there still, he could feel it in his fingers, but it wasn't visible.  He wiped at the area he remembered writing the sigil, and with enough rubbing, the page reappeared, the word smeared under his finger.

Satisfied that worked, he went to another one.  Checking once more that Bill was not paying attention, he wrote the sigil for Silence on both of his shoes, along the tongues.  He said the word twice, just in case, before setting his feet back on the ground.  He didn't hear anything, but that wasn't really proof enough.  He slid his feet across the floor, something that had in the past made a squeaking kind of noise, but nothing came.

Dipper grinned.  This could be useful, right?  To go unseen, unheard in the cage, that could be in his advantage.  His smile faded.  But in what way?  There was no way out of the cage, that he was sure of.  It was completely closed off.  Bill himself came from seemingly nowhere, either just walking in from another room or showing up as a random object in whatever room he was occupying at the time.

Dipper felt his hope fade as the realisation sunk in.  This was all well and good to have, but how far could these things get him?  No wonder Bill wasn't considered with what he was doing, he had ensured his imprisonment.  And in such, he could enjoy his pet, his toy, as he wanted, knowing Dipper's only progression could be in his favour, as he had so recently shown him.  He would just be going back with his captor after this, with nothing to do with his new knowledge but to antagonise how it was useless to him.

Dipper sat staring at the spellbook for several minutes, letting the despair wash over him.  He scanned over the pages, willing something to be useful, but even the Pain spell wouldn't be of help.  He had used it before, and he knew full well that the most it did was give a shock of sorts to the body, but it was acute and more distracting than anything else.  He figured that even with Bill's physical form and its theorised limitations, that wouldn't be enough to do anything meaningful.

His eyes landed on another word, though, one he shrugged off before.  It wouldn't help him much more than to get a reprieve from Bill's more lengthy intimate sessions, at least not at initial thought.  But what if...

All of Dipper's ideas before had been upon the return to his prison.  He had thought he would need time to get his plan together, to enact it, go through lists, as he was ought to do.  He was never that good at impulse, after all.

But what if he didn't wait?

Dipper went about picking up, putting some of the books – mostly his journals and the spellbook – into his backpack.  He picked up Mabel's coffin, staring at it a long time before putting it inside and zipping it up.  He stuffed his pens and the Sharpie back into his pockets, making sure it was easily accessible.  After another scan of the shelves, sure that was the only book he would need for a while, he left for the other car.  He approached Bill slowly, one strap of his bag on his shoulder.  He reached out, placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder.

Bill turned to look up at him, smiling.  "Done?"

Dipper nodded.  "For now, anyway."  He ran his hand along his shoulder.  "But we can come back, can't we?"  _Act natural_ , Dipper told himself.  He had already been doing a good job of it, but now his thoughts were more scattered, piecing things together while he had to seem like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Bill laid down the book as he stood.  He tapped his chin, humming.  "I suppose so," he said.  He ran the backs of his fingers along Dipper's cheek.  "You did show me you can be a good boy."

Dipper smiled at him, almost bashfully.  "Yeah, well..."

Bill chuckled.  "See?  It doesn't always have to be bad."  His fingers trailed down his neck.  "When you're good, I'm good.  It's simple enough, isn't it?"

Dipper nodded.  His next moves had to be exact.  Bill knew his game, but not entirely, and that was an important ruse to keep up.  Show some reluctance, which was an honest expression.  If he showed too much eagerness after Bill had caught him, it would seem suspicious.  He had to find the good in between.  Make it clear where the game was, and Bill's perceived crack in his resolve.

Bill was so sure he would give in at some point.  And in ways, he had, with how he responded to his advances.  Use that to advantage, Dipper thought.  Let him start, and then give in.  That was less likely to attract attention, make it seem he wanted something.  So give him a suggestion, let him run with it.

"Well, shall we?" Bill inquired, taking a step toward the door.

"Yeah, just..."  Dipper looked around the room, looking for something he could use for a jump off point.  His eyes fell on the bed.  "Just a moment."

Bill regarded Dipper, brow raised.  "What is it, Pine Tree?"

Dipper didn't respond immediately.  He focused on the musty sheets, thinking about how they were crumbled in the corner.  William was normally the one who made the bed, Dipper was always eager to get up and get on with the day.  But there hadn't been time that day, not before the nightmares found their way into the subway and started to wreak havoc.

"Just still... strange, being here."  He played with the fabric of one of the pillows, noting to himself that the dust wasn’t as bad as he thought.  "All those memories just feel different now."

Bill wrapped an arm around Dipper's waist, pulling him into his side.  "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Dipper shrugged.  He turned some to look out the window over the table.  "Not... out of context, I guess not."  Outside, he could just barely see the bricks of the subway walls, illuminated by different bioluminescent flora and fungi, one of Dipper's first projects in the tunnels.

"So much has happened," Dipper went on, his gaze still away from Bill.  "I just... never thought this is where I would be when our parents dropped us off in Gravity Falls."  He sighed.  "All of my firsts... none of them were how I thought they were going to be."

Bill was still at his side.  He nuzzled his neck almost affectionately, his arm still around him.  "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know," he answered, his shoulders slumping.  "Definitely not what I had with William."  He thought for a moment.  "...with you."

"But they were good firsts, weren't they?"  Bill's hand had moved down his side to his hip and back up a few times before his palm went over his rear.

"Not... not all of them."  His gaze was downcast, his brow furrowed some.  "I was... expecting something different for when..."

Bill hummed.  "It wasn't how I intended," he admitted.  It wasn't the first time he had said it, but the words held little consolation for Dipper.  "I wanted it to be better for you."

Dipper turned a glare to him.  "But it wasn't.  You can't change that, can you?"

Bill blinked, his expression unreadable as he stared at Dipper.  He took Dipper's face in hands and leaned in until their lips almost touched.  "I can't change that," he agreed.  "But maybe I can make it up to you."

Dipper didn't stop him when he connected their lips.  His eyes were wide, surprised at the odd tenderness of the kiss.  For a long moment, Bill just moved his mouth against his, no teeth, no roughness.  So caught off guard, he easily opened his mouth for him when he felt his tongue, as if this was a favourable progression.

The gentle nature of the kiss was akin to William's lips, a feat Bill did very rarely.  Whenever he did, Dipper didn't know how to react initially.  He had a natural assumption that it was a trap in a way, that responding would be giving in to William, something Bill had made clear he wouldn't stand for.

Bill kept it up, and Dipper found himself kissing back.  This is what he was going for, he reminded himself.  He wanted Bill to pursue him, to go after him; it was part of his hastily made plan.  It was what he needed him to do in order to get Bill to a more susceptible state.  But Bill's lips moved to his chin and neck, more kisses than bites, and Dipper was distracted by the change in the intimacy.  He pushed Dipper back against the table, and he perched himself upon the surface, his hands finding their way around his back, pulling Bill closer to him.

Bill's warm hands were pushing up his shirt as his teeth left marks on his neck and shoulders, more through sucking than a vicious bite.  Dipper moved into him even as he leaned him over the table, kissing the side of his face, raking at his back through his shirt.  This wasn't like his usual aggressiveness: he still had pressure to his teeth and hands, but it was slowed and more considerate.

He was taking his time to only for Dipper's consent.

Dipper swallowed thickly as Bill moved down his abdomen.  He licked and nipped at his sides, his fingers gracing along his flesh, eliciting a shudder from his body.  Despite himself, he not only moved into the touch, but his hips bucked into him, his member erect already.  He had been responding to Bill's advances in the past few months with more and more ease, but that had been a learned response, this was an actual reaction to his ministrations.

He did not stop him when he was working on his belt and zipper.  He only moaned when he kissed at the area above his hem, changing to small bites as he lowered his pants.  He kicked off his shoes, which landed without a sound as Bill took off his boxers as well.

"This was what I wanted, you know," Bill said, his breath coming out over Dipper's hips.  "No matter what you think of me, I did have you in mind for this." 

Dipper took in a deep inhale as Bill's fingers graced his shaft.  He leaned his head back, biting his lips, feeling anger at himself for the honest enjoyment he was feeling.

"I like the way we do things," he went on.  "It works much better for me, and I think it's fair to say you like them, too."

Dipper shook his head, though it went unnoticed by the monster.  Of course he didn't like them; he just let them happen because the alternative was worse.  He might as well get something out of this, that's what he would remind himself.  It isn't consensual, but it wasn't rape, and that distinction still mattered.

"But I know sometimes I should do things for you," he said.  Dipper let out a long, pleased sigh when he felt kisses on his inner thighs.  "To remind you of my kindness."

"It isn't kindness, it's-"

Dipper's thought was swallowed up by a deep moan when Bill's mouth descended on his erection.  He sat up some to make sure what he was feeling was real, and it sure enough was: Bill's eyes were fixed on him as his penis was half-way into his mouth.  He shivered when he felt his tongue press to the underside, gliding along the head.

Dipper's eyes were wide with awe as Bill started to bob his head up and down.  He never went to the base, but even the amount he was willing to take was enough to stir Dipper's insides.  He bucked his hips up, taking a handful of hair into his fingers.  In all the time Bill had been molesting him, he had never once entertained the idea of fellatio on Dipper.  It was always about his cock, getting him off, swallowing whatever he gave him.  He had never expected this, never even wanted it, so sure that it would never happen.

"Bill, Bill," Dipper whispered.  "Oh, god, please, please..."

Bill chuckled around him.  He pulled himself off audibly.  He stood up straight, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.  Dipper whined at the loss.  "Not today," he said.  He quickly undid his pants, pulling out his phallus.  "Keep being a good boy, though, and you'll get more."

Dipper's eyes were large, almost pleading.  "No, no, please, keep..."

Bill shook his head.  "This is supposed to be the first time," he said.  He took Dipper's legs, wrapping them around his sides.  He put his arms around his thighs, pulling him close, and he could feel his hard length along his backside.  "I want you to come when I'm in you."  He moved his hips forward, and Dipper shivered.  "That's what I wanted then, I remember that."

"Then... it wouldn't have been right here, would it?"  He wrapped his arms around Bill's neck.

Bill grinned wide, enthralled with Dipper's apparent cooperation.  "You're right," he responded.  He picked up Dipper, turning around and laying him down on the dusty sheets of the bed.  He returned to kissing him passionately, and for several long moments, they laid there, kissing each other as their hands roamed their bodies.

Dipper let himself go as they continued, adjusted only momentarily for Bill to remove his clothes fully (another out-of-the-ordinary thing) and adjust themselves in the bed.  He knew he shouldn't, but Bill was being almost too good to him, almost too much like William, and he craved that.  Bill's touch had normally been so dominating, so rough, that he found himself wanting more of this gentleness.

He didn't know how long Bill could keep this up.  He was about pain as much as pleasure, especially when it came to his pet, that he didn't think he was capable of this.  Would he do this more often?  Would he be this considerate of him, as some reward or just when he felt like it?

No, he couldn't think like that.  He couldn't hold onto that oddly pleasant thought that between his rough contact there could be true intimacy.  This had to be the last time.  He had to stay with the plan, had to keep his mind on track for what to do next.

That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy this small reprieve, though.

"Wait, wait, Bill."

Bill growled a little, clearly not done with his pursuit.  "Pine Tree-"

"No, it's okay, I was just thinking," he said quickly.

"Thinking?"

"Yeah."  He pushed on him.  Bill complied, rolling onto his back as Dipper straddled his hips.  His brow was raised, a curious look on his face, but he still smiled.  Dipper blushed under the gaze.  "You would have... you would have wanted me to be more, hmm..."

He leaned over him to a wooden box that was on the headboard.  He pulled out a small tube before resettling himself.  "I think you would've liked my participation more."

Bill's smile widened.  His hands were on his hips, fingers digging in lightly.  "It would have been nice, yes."

Dipper squirted some of the contents of the tube onto his hand.  He reached behind him, and Bill purred as he slathered the lubricant onto his member.  When he thought it was covered enough, he raised his hips, his hand at the base of his penis, to keep it aligned with his entrance.

Bill watched him intently as Dipper sank onto his erection.  He moaned as he went down, moving both his palms to his thighs as he fully sheathed himself.  Bill stayed still, letting Dipper go, his fingers the only thing that moved as they tightened on his hips.

There was a stretch of silence, neither moving.  Finally Dipper sat up, putting his arms on Bill's chest.  He used his pectorals for leverage as he moved his body up until only the tip was in before sitting back down.  He went at a slow pace, getting reacquainted with Bill's length.  It hadn't been more than twelve hours since the last time he was inside of him, but he still had to adjust slightly to his girth.  He grunted as he moved, while Bill's breath came evenly but heavily.

There was only so long that Bill could remain inert, though.  Eventually, he gripped Dipper's rear, spreading his cheeks as he started to lift up and into him, pounding into him over and over.  Dipper yelped, but still let him take control, only moving back into him, trying to meet each thrust.  He was hitting him deep inside, right where he needed it, and he couldn't help the moans and other noises that came from him.

"You know, I love fucking you from behind," Bill said after picking up the pace a little.  "But this is good, too."  He grunted as he moved harder.  "You should do this nights I'm tired."

Dipper nodded.  "Yeah, yeah," he agreed, not really listening.  He groaned low and long.  He was getting close, and he hoped Bill was, too. 

Dipper yelped when their positions flipped, and he was suddenly beneath Bill.  He didn't think it would last that long, he was surprised he put up with any of it, but it had been good while it lasted.  Bill took his wrists, holding them at the side of his head as he continued to thrust into him.  He didn't use chains or his shadow limbs, just his own hands as he moved.  Dipper put his feet on the bed, raising himself some so that Bill had better access to him.

"Was this what it would have been like?" Bill asked.

"I... yes, I-"

"Do you really think William would have been this good?"

Dipper bit his lip.  It wasn't something he wanted to think about.  He wasn't in the right mind to make sure an opinion.  He just wanted him to finish up.  It didn't matter that he was actually enjoying this time, that the build up inside of him was a rare case, he needed it over.

He needed this done while he still had the will to enact his ideas.

Bill leaned over him, latching his teeth deep into his shoulder as he slammed one last time into his body.  He held tight to him as his seed spilt inside, filling him.  Dipper's legs tightened around his sides as he screamed Bill's name, his own release spilling over his stomach.  Bill stayed in him until he was completely emptied before he rolled off him.

The only sound in the car was their heavy breathing.  For a moment, Dipper let the euphoria take him.  His body felt warm and pleasant, and he basked in it for a long time.  He blinked.  No, he had to keep focused.  He looked over at Bill: his eyes were closed, his breathing laboured.

It was now or never.

Dipper rolled onto his side, tucking himself into Bill's side.  The monster instantly put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in to lie some on his chest.  Dipper let himself be held, running a finger over his chest for a moment.  Bill hummed, but didn't open his eyes.  Dipper turned a little, his lips to Bill's ear, and whispered to him.

"What was that, Pine Tree?"

"That was... nice," Dipper said, sounding nothing like the word he had just said.

Bill didn't seem to notice, though.  He was running a hand lazily down his back, a smile on his lips.  "It wasn't too bad."

Dipper laid against him again, his eyes focused on Bill's naval.  He listened to his breathing as it slowed more and more.  He waited a few more moments before he turned to look at Bill.

He smiled to himself at his sleeping face.

Dipper didn't move at first, just to make sure he was right.  After several moments, though, Bill still didn't rouse.  He slowly lifted Bill's arm, removing himself from his body.  He whispered the spell one more time into his ear before fully getting off the bed.

Quietly, Dipper put his clothes back on after wiping off his stomach.  He could still feel Bill inside of him, but he ignored it in favour of getting his plan on the way.  He made sure his stomach was dry of semen and sweat before using the Sharpie to write a sigil just above the scarred eye on his naval.  It was right side up to him, but that didn't matter.  He wrote the sigil on his backpack, just in case, and a different one on the skin between his index and thumb of his left hand.

He slung the backpack over his shoulders and then put his shoes back on.  He skidded them along the floor, satisfied that they still weren't making noise.  Fully equipped, he looked out the window again, taking a deep breath.

Dipper stiffened for a moment when he heard movement.  He looked over at Bill, worried that he had been found, but he only found he had rolled over to the spot Dipper had just recently occupied.  He muttered, but his eyes stayed closed.  Dipper let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding.

For what felt like a long time, he stared at Bill.  Here it was, his way out.  Just a few more words, and he would be gone.  But his feet wouldn't move, his mouth wouldn’t open.  He just kept his eyes on the dream monster.  And as he slept, it was possible to forget what a beast he was.  The warmth still inside of him made him remember the intimate moment they just had.  A moment that Bill had been clear could happen more.

Should he really leave?  Could he leave?  Bill had taken so much from him, but he had also given him so much, too.  Even as William he had taught him things, and he had given him almost everything he asked for in the cage.

Had it really been that bad?

Then Dipper remembered the small coffin in his backpack that held his sister's remains.  His brow furrowed in renewed determination.

Dipper touched his backpack where he had written the sigil, whispering low the spell for Invisibility.  He did the same on his naval, and before his eyes, he started to disappear.  Finally, he said low the Silence word into the hand with sigil scrawled on it.  Just to be sure, he covered his mouth the hand and spoke, but nothing came out.

Satisfied, Dipper turned to the door.  He gave Bill only one more look out of the corner of his eyes before he left the car quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an aside, from here until the end of the year, I'm having a small sale on my Storenvy (sushisteatime . storenvy . com). What doesn't show on sale, you can use sushigreetings. I also opened an etsy store (etsy . com / shop / sushisteatime), and you can use the coupon code grandopen for 20% off. All of it helps me make more art, especially of the Billdip kind! Thanks to anyone that can!


	11. Running Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper gets to the surface and continues in his escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, but I hated writing this chapter. I just rushed it, honestly, because it wouldn't get done otherwise. It isn't that great and is tiny, but it needed to be done. Next chapter shouldn't be that bad and should be out sooner.  
> Thanks to everyone that sticks around!

Dipper could not remember the last time he ran so fast.

He wasn't sure how long the Sleep spell would last on Bill, even with the double hit he had given him.  He knew that Bill's physical body would have its fatigue, but he was still an ethereal being of some sort.  What would have given a regular human a day's worth of sleep may only last for ten minutes on him.

He was hoping for longer, but he was still sure to get a head start just in case.

Dipper's footsteps remained absent as he continued his path down the tunnels.  He hadn't noticed at first, though, not until he almost tripped over a displaced stone, and caught himself in panic.  His shoes should have scuffled, but they didn't.  Instead all he heard was his palms hitting the ground.  That noise jostled him the most, as it seemed to ring out among the tunnels.

He scurried quickly to a darkened corner, hiding himself where the mushrooms didn't illuminate.  His breaths were hard and fast, but quietened as he covered his mouth with the inscribed hand.  He was amazed at how well the strategy had worked.

Above it all, though, he was grateful for it.

Dipper finally came out of hiding when he heard nothing else.  He should have been going up, putting more ground between him and the monster, but he was after one last thing before going to the surface.  When he had made the mushrooms, he spaced them out and arranged them in a way to make something akin to street signs.  You knew where you were by different patterns, but that wasn't completely what he was looking for.

It was a long while before he reached what he was looking for.  At least, it felt like forever.  He didn't have his skull clock with him, so he wasn't completely sure.  All he knew was he was out of breath, and his legs ached.

Just a little ways down the track was the station that led up to Central Park.  It was one of the few exits that the colony had left available, while most others they worked hard to block up the entrances.  In all of Manhattan, there had to be only four subway exits truly accessible, and even those had some trick to them.  All intention, to do the most to stop Bill and his minions from getting in.

Good job all of that did.

Before the platform, there was a small red door, a long forgotten maintenance room.  Dipper stole away into it, sitting hard against the door as he caught his breath.  He had more reason to be there, but for a long time, he just used it to catch himself up on breathing.

He wouldn't go so far to say he was out of shape, but it wasn't like he had much to do in Bill's cage activity wise.  He would do exercises, jogging in place, stretching, all of that, not because he wanted to be in pique form, but more from lack of anything better to do sometimes.  Now he wished better, wished he had pressed himself a little more, but hindsight was always 20/20.

Those first moments in the small room were spent with Dipper covering his mouth.  It was odd, not hearing anything though he knew his panting had to be loud.  But the spell was more than effective, silencing everything that might betray his location.

The whole run, Dipper had paid attention to the sounds of the subway.  He listened for more than the occasional drip of water or chittering of rats.  He listened for Bill's thunderous voice, the one he used when he tormented Gravity Falls in his giant form.  He listened for his approach and demands that he returned to him, to his 'owner.'

But it never came.

Dipper let out a long sigh, something he could hear as he removed his hand from his mouth.  He was still quiet for just a bit longer, too uneased by the idea that Bill would show up at any moment.  Finally, he was able to force himself up and away from the door to achieve his intended goal.

There was a filing cabinet in the corner of the room, large and heavy looking.  With several grunts and shoves, Dipper took hold of its backend and swivelled it just enough to get behind it.  He leaned against the metal and took in deep breaths before focusing on the hole revealed in the concrete.  It wasn't a whole lot of room, but it was enough to reach into the whole, dig around, and pull out the dusty canvas bag within.

Within the first year, their small band of survivors had accrued a haul of supplies from a military facility.  They continued to collect all across the country, getting to army camps after they were emptied by various horrors Bill and his band had sent to dispose of any opposing forces.  Where Bill had been focusing on them, it was apparent that the rest of the world was falling to the chaos.  They took what they could find, though they tended not to get too much in way of weapons.  Guns only worked on so many of them and found their way only in the hands of the adults.  This was fine with Dipper, as at the time he hadn't felt comfortable with firearms anyway.

Eventually, he learned just enough to hold it probably and get somewhat of a shot off.  He was thankful for that as he pulled out a small calibre pistol from the bag.  He stuffed it into his backpack along with a stash of bullets.  He wouldn't be able to use it, he knew, not unless he was able to find a cleaning kit, but maybe it could be used to threaten any being he came across.  Officer Grubbs had done that a few times, and the creatures seemed to only understand that guns were bad, and that was enough.

There were a few other useful things inside, including a survival blanket and a number of MREs.  They probably were nearing their expiration, but he needed something until he could find a food source.  The rest were simple things, like a flint and stone and water filter.  It was a little survivor's bag, meant in an emergency.  If William hadn't pulled him down those tunnelways when the colony was attacked, this would have been his option, because that was what it was meant for.

But that was neither here nor there.  It was being used now, and if he was lucky, it would be all he needed to get to his destination.

His backpack full, Dipper reapplied the spells to his stomach and hand, for the bits that rubbed off from his sweat and movement, and recasted them upon himself.  He threw the backpack over his shoulder and made his way out of the room and toward the exit to Central Park.

The surface was different than he remembered.  It was still empty; no signs of humans anywhere, but the earth had reclaimed it more.  The park had grown out of its designated plot, plants winding its way outside and growing more and more without fear of being tended to.  He could hear animals move around, but that was all that was about.  There were no eyeballs or other monsters.

This surprised Dipper a little.  Maybe Bill was still asleep?  Or didn't expect him to go above ground?  It didn't matter: he would take advantage of his freedom as much as he could.

When Bill had come and destroyed the colony fully, it had been early fall.  The leaves weren't turning, but the temperature was at the odd cool in the morning to be unnecessarily hot in the afternoon.  The weather now was hot and humid, indicating somewhere in the summer, probably July or August. 

That meant that it had been almost a year.  Almost a year of torment from Bill after he killed off all of his remaining family.  Almost a year of captivity.  Almost a year of Bill's lust.

He bristled at the thought and desperately pushed it aside.  Not now, it wasn't the time.  The sun was setting, and that meant he wouldn't have much time to do anything.  Not that he had much planned either than where he thought he should go, but he could spend the night thinking more in detail.

Dipper spent the rest of the light finding a place to sleep.  He ended up in an office building, high up, and well within the walls.  Part of the survival bag had been a hand crank flashlight that thankfully worked to its namesake.  He set up camp in some hard worker's former office, that had a couch and blankets that weren't too moth eaten.  He assumed whoever it was worked too much overtime by this, but was grateful to stumble upon it.

Maybe his luck was about to turn around.

He drew the blinds of the large picture window, just in case some eyeballs ever came by.  He found a metal trash can that he started a fire in, fuelled by all the paper he could find plus some broken wooden furniture.  He ate one of the MREs while contemplating what his next move would be.  Beside him, he sat out Mabel's coffin, talking to it as if his sister was still there.  It didn't feel strange to him: he had done the same with the clock skull, and found it to be almost cathartic.

Through the night, he looked over the spellbook.  There had been notes in the book from the witch who had owned it about her personal growth in magick.  One thing that came up more than once was that she had learned from a coven that had a large collective knowledge, and if he was reading it right, more books and a possible library.  All of this was when the witch had lived in Salem.  It seemed a little cliché, but what more did he have to go on?  Maybe there would be something there about banishing such a large evil like Bill Cipher.

It wasn't like he had anything more to go on.

That night had been the most peaceful he had in months.  There was no threat looming over him of what Bill had in store for him.  He felt safe, recasting the spells over himself, and he slept soundly.

In the morning, he repacked everything, and went about finding the last things he needed for the trip.  Finding a map that led to Massachusetts was easy enough.  It was finding transportation that evaded him for a few hours.

Plenty of cars had their keys in it, but the gas had gone bad, and none would start.  Instead he opted to find a bicycle, which took a while in and of itself, as he had to find one that wasn't rusted through.  He took one from a sporting goods store that had been in the back with a minimum amount of rust.  He grabbing a couple extra chains, tires, and a pump, and then he was on his way.

Due to the lack of moving cars, it was easy to get out of the city and toward Salem.  The roads weren't completely cleared, but it took just a little manoeuvring to get by.  He could use the interstate, thankfully, which was an almost direct route.  Within a day, he was already well into Connecticut.  It had been hard on him, and he had to take a lot of breaks, but he still made it further than he thought.

When the sun was falling, though, he knew he had to pause for the evening.  He settled down in a rest stop, using the visitor's centre as a place to rest.  He wasn't able to find something comfortable to sleep on, but the peace of still not seeing any eyes or any other monstrosities still pacified him into a restful sleep.

He spent the morning breaking into the vending machines, figuring the nuts and some of the chips would still be good due to preservatives, and the water could be filtered and still beneficial.  He found more Sharpies and pens in the centre, and tucked it all away in his backpack.  After eating some of his spoils from the caper, he was back on the road.

It was almost pleasant, the trip.  Had the situation not been so dire, it would have actually been an enjoyable vacation, maybe something he would have wanted to do across the whole country.  It was hard work, and the heat made him take several breaks for water, but it still was kind of fun.

The only unfortunate thing was how his mind wandered while he peddled.  He thought of his years leading up to where he was.  He went over things in Gravity Falls, things he could have done different to prevent all this, though that was a fruitless endeavour.  There was nothing he could have changed to keep him from this moment.  It didn't matter if he went over the past in his head, making up scenarios, nothing would change the events that led to this moment.

For a while, he just thought of better times.  He remembered things from his childhood, when he met his Grunkle, the friends he made in Gravity Falls.  He thought of those weird things that happened, like releasing a video game character, and Summerween.  It was a good enough distraction, until his thoughts always came back to Bill.

Bill crept into his mind over and over.  First with memories of how he took over, how he conquered the world, then he thought about William.  Despite himself, he gave too much time to what had happened between them, and if there had been any hints of his true identity at all.  He never really found any, even with the power of hindsight.

Then he thought of him in the privacy of the cage.  He thought of the moments when he wasn't too horrid, when he played games with him, when he just spoke to him almost in some way like an equal, and the times he helped him with his writing.  Then those thoughts would turn to hands and lips touching him, caressing him, murmuring what would be kind things coming from him. 

And then he would think of Bill holding him down and taking him, and he grew angry that it wasn't the sour memory it should be.

There were still no eyeballs as Dipper went down the road.  No sign of anything other than deer and squirrels and the like.  As he peddled, it was like the earth had moved on, just without humans or monsters.  It was green and plush, and wonderful in a way.

For a while, he thought of staying out here, in the wild.  Become a hunter and grower, just live off the land.  He would still have to hide, still have to make sure he was never found, but it would be relaxing, wouldn't it?  It would be...

Dipper shook his head.  No, he had to keep trying.  He had to find a way to stop Bill.  He had to bring his madness to an end. 

Even if it meant that he would forever alone afterward.

Dipper came to a little town near a large forest that made him slow down.  Here, the cars were all pulled over, cleared to the sides that there was room on the road.  When he looked at the off ramps, it looked as if the concrete had been tended to, the grass cut and more cars parked where they weren't in the way.  Intrigued, Dipper took the road into the town just to see if there was an answer for this.

Here, he found the buildings taken care of.  The streets were clear, the cars all in parking lots, though a little haphazardly.  The storefronts looked cleaned and almost used.  He walked the bicycle along the way as he looked around.

"Hello?" he called out.  He was met with silence.

This did not deter him as he went further into the town.  Eventually, he hopped back on his bike, and followed a road that had freshly painted lines along it.  After several miles, he could see something in the distance he had never expected: a wall.  A tall, steel-looking wall, that was just visible above the treetops.  He was still a ways away from it, but it renewed something in him.  It had to be humans, had to be more survivors.

It was already night when the wall came into view.  He was tired and weary, pushing himself further.  When he could no longer, he decided to give up for the evening, to resume in the morning.  He was in the middle of a scenic route, and there were no buildings anywhere nearby.  With no other option, he settled for sleeping just about three metres from the road, finding soft ground among a pair of trees that would have to make do.

Dipper woke with a startle in the hanging humidity of the morning.  He could feel himself being shaken, taking him from some nightmare about Bill, and he instinctively jumped away from whatever it was.  He breathed hard as his eyes fell on a young woman kneeled over where he had been sleeping just a moment before.

She stared at him, eyeing him almost casually.  His eyes on the other hand were wide as he stared back.  He hadn't expected to be found, but after a quick lift of his shirt, he found the invisibility spell slightly faded by the sweat in his sleep.

He looked back up at her, his eyes stuck on the first human he had seen in almost a year.  (Of course Bill didn't count, no matter how many times he wore the skin of one.)  She looked just a bit older than him with long black hair and darker skin.  Her dark eyes were even on him, and just below them were... tattoos?  That's what they looked like.  Tattoos of... was that an eight ball?

And around her neck was a rather odd and thick looking necklace.  On it was a pendant, an eyeball that was staring intently at Dipper.  He didn't think much of it at first, other than it looked rather too life-like.

"Who are you?" Dipper asked, finally finding his voice.

"Not important," she answered.  "What are you doing here?  The areas around here should be completely cleared out..."

"What are you talking about?"  He stood up.  He snatched up his blanket, wrapping it up and stuffing it into his bag, all the while keeping an eye on her.

She, too, eyed him as she straightened up.  "I guess we should tell them..."  She touched the necklace, lifting it up and tilting it to look her in the eye.  That iris shifted, looking up at her before it blinked.

Dipper found himself still, transfixed by the scene.  It wasn't really that odd to see, he had seen far stranger things over his life, but the context didn't fit what he was used to.  He was only familiar with the people he knew personally to handle such things with ease, not someone he just met.

What was going on?

"Go get Xenfrr, please," she said to the eye.  "He'll be interested by this."

There was a noise from the necklace.  It unfurled from around her neck, growing wings as it did.  Then it was flying off toward the road and away.

She turned back to him, her expression blank.  "Do you know where you are?"

"Not... entirely," Dipper answered.  He slung the bag over his shoulder.  Something about all of this seemed out of place.  She didn't exude any hostility, but he still found the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

"He's going to want to see you," she said.  "It's been awhile since he's done an inspection, and unfortunately, he enjoys them."

Dipper raised a brow.  He took a step back from her.  "Who does?" 

"You're not going to be difficult, are you?"

"Should I be?"

She sighed.  "It would just make things complicated, is all.  I would appreciate it if you made this easy."  She crossed her arms, her tone still monotonous as she said, "I really don't have time to chase you.  And it's just easier all around if you cooperate."

Dipper took another step back.  "That doesn't sound like a great offer."  He turned an ankle.  He contemplated if he should try to grab his bike or just run.  It didn't matter what she said; it was clear wherever she was going to take him, he wouldn't want to go.

"I wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?"

"Run."

"Because you don't want to chase me?"

She clicked her tongue.  "Well, I don't want to, but not just that."

"Then what?"

But Dipper didn't wait for whatever she was about to say.  He turned and made a run for it, deciding further into the woods would be the best bet.

However, he didn't get that far as he collided with a much more solid body than his own.  He fell back onto the ground, hitting his head on a rock.  He groaned, instantly grabbing at the area.  He rolled onto his side, muttering to himself

That would probably be why he didn't see the fist when it came, sending him into a silent darkness.


	12. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper wakes up in the grasp of another monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rape toward the end of the chapter.  
> Thanks for the patience while I got this out. This is different than I had originally intended, but I... like? How this came out? That's a weird word to use, but nonetheless.  
> Just, ah... heads up. It's going to get a little intense.

The tide was coming in. 

That was the only thing Dipper really noticed as the water crept up the sand, reaching out, but stopping short of the towel he sat on before sinking back into the ocean.  The sun was setting, slower than it should be, changing the colours of the water's surface to something ethereal.  He could already see the stars if he looked high enough in the sky.  The breeze ruffled his thin shirt, and he thought that and his swim shorts wouldn't be enough to stay warm.  He pulled his legs to him, rubbing his arms. 

But none of it seemed out of place. 

"This beach looks familiar." 

Dipper glanced to his side, his eyes settling on the man beside him.  "My parents used to take Mabel and me here for vacation, years before we went to Gravity Falls." 

Bill continued to look over the horizon, a light smile on his lips.  "You've dreamt about it." 

"People tend to dream about memorable things in their lives."  He looked forward again, focusing on the tide.  "So you didn't make this?" 

Bill hummed a little.  "I've never had to make a dream for you.  What you see when you close your eyes is interesting enough."  There was a shuffle, and Dipper could feel him scoot closer.  "It's been a while since I've even thought of stepping in, too." 

"When did you before?" 

"How do you think William came to you?" 

Dipper bit his lip.  Of course it would be that simple.  He hugged his knees tighter. 

"I figured you'd be looking for me already." 

Bill was silent.  Dipper turned to look at him, but was taken aback slightly by the intent stare he was faced with.  He turned back, huddling into himself. 

"...are you upset?" Dipper finally asked. 

"Of course I am," Bill said quickly.  "But I'd like to think I've calmed down." 

Dipper jumped a little when he felt a hand on his back.  "Consider this a vacation," he went on.  He moved his hand to his shoulder, pushing him back.  Dipper followed his lead, laying on his back.  Bill leaned over him, staring him in the eyes.  Dipper bit his lip and turned away, staring at the sand whether than the glare atop of him. 

"What did you think was going to happen?" Bill asked, his voice dripping with venom.  He moved, settling himself in between Dipper's legs, his body fully hovering over him. 

Dipper sighed.  "I just..."  He shook his head, turning slightly to look at Bill.  "Why haven't you come for me?  Why are there no eye-bats?" 

Bill blinked.  His lips were set in a sneer, a look Dipper only saw when he was in a foul mood.  It was on the nights he came back from talking to the others of his group, when he assumed something didn't go right, and Bill took it out on his backside. 

"You have no idea what you're doing," Bill hissed.  

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Dipper spat back.  He pushed at his shoulder, trying to get him off of him, but it was to no avail.  "I'm going to get away from you, I'm going to stop-" 

" _No, you are not,_ " Bill said through gritted teeth.  "I need to find you, _now_." 

Dipper stopped, eyes wide.  Bill's voice wasn't just certain, wasn't just authoritative, it was _concerned_.  And not just in his voice, when he really studied his voice, Bill was more than angry, he was _worried._  

"Bill?"  Dipper's voice softened, sounding like it did when he was ready to give into him.  He wanted an answer, though, he wanted to know what was going on.  Bill was upset, but there was something more, something in the way the sky flickered with dripping stars when he spoke, the way his body sagged.  "What's going on?" 

Bill sighed.  He ran a hand down Dipper's side, his touch gentle.  Dipper relaxed, the hand on his shoulder flattening, no longer pushing him away.  Bill leaned in, his forehead touching his. 

"Tell me where you are." 

"Why should I come back?" 

"What happens when you beat me?" he asked.  Dipper shuddered when his hand moved under his shirt and up his stomach.  "Are you okay with being alone?" 

"I... I can be, if it means you're gone.  The world—" 

"Won't be changed much," Bill finished for him.  He kissed his jawline, talking in between pecks, "I'm not the only one, Pine Tree.  You cannot forget that."  Dipper instinctively moved his head when he went for his neck, cursing the training the monster had imparted on him.  "I didn't come here alone, after all." 

"If you're... if you're gone, I can get the other survivors, we can get together, we can fight!" 

Bill moved again, looking him in the eyes.  "Do you really believe that?" 

Dipper held his gaze, his brows furrowed in determination. 

"Dipper," Bill said, his tone insistent.  Dipper could not help the attention it brought to him, how he said his name. 

"I need to find you," he said.  "Trust me on this."  His lips came within a breath of his.  "No matter how much you hate me, how horrible you think I've been, I am not mad about your blindness to my kindness." 

His hand brushed over the scar on his stomach.  "But I am kind, do not forget that, where others would not be." 

Bill kissed him, soft and tender.  Dipper stiffened at first, but he relaxed, and despite himself, he moved his lips against his.  He could feel Bill's lips turn into a light smile. 

"I have plans for you," he said as he pulled away.  "This puts things back a bit, but I feel we can overcome this."  His hand lingered, a finger running over the eye on his abdomen.  "After some punishment, of course." 

"I'm not coming back," Dipper said, his defiant ideation returning to him. 

"Believe me when I tell you, it is in your best interest to come back to me." 

"Tell me why, why I should trust coming back.  Tell me why I should want to, why I should want anything to do with you." 

"I promise you, I will.  I will tell you everything, no more secrets."  Bill returned to kissing his neck.  "But you have to come home first." 

"Bill..." 

"Tell me where you are," he whispered against his skin. 

"I can't." 

Bill looked up at him again, his brow narrowed.  "Pine Tree-" 

"No, seriously, I can't." 

His brow raised. 

"...Pine Tree, do you know where you are?" 

Dipper bit his lip. 

Bill's look darkened some, but he knew it wasn't directed at him.  He was looking at Dipper, but wasn't really seeing him.   

"Dipper, listen to me, I need you to—" 

 

Everything was white when Dipper opened his eyes. 

The walls were white, the ceiling was white, the floor was white.  Everything was white.  He groaned, closing his eyes as he reached up to rub the back of his head.  As the dull pain throbbed under his fingers, the white faded to something more dull and detailed.  His eyes focused, and he found nothing was truly white. 

That had just been the pain circulating his head. 

Dipper groaned again, this time adjusting himself, laying on his side.  It would take another moment before he realised he was on a squeaky surface, like vinyl.  He looked straight ahead, his eyes falling on a grey brick pattern.  There was a desk, some medical posters, was that an x-ray box?  Was he in a doctor's office? 

"Ah, good, you're awake," came a voice off to his left.  "I was hoping two days would be more than enough." 

Dipper moved again, this time sitting up.  He winced, the action making his head pound once more.  When he looked around again, he realised he was on a doctor's bench.  Looking about himself, nothing seemed out of place.  He rubbed his head again before finally settling his gaze on the source of the voice.  He hesitated a moment with his memory before it came back to him: it was the woman from before, the one in the woods, now adorned in a white doctor's coat, eye pendant resting on her chest with a stethoscope. 

"Where... what's going on?" 

She was in a chair near to him, writing something onto a clipboard.  She only glanced up at him out of the side of her eyes, but seemed only mildly interested in his existence.  She held up one finger, silencing whatever his next question was going to be, as she continued to write something down.  There was a long pause as the pen scratched, before she set them both on her lap, turning her full attention to him. 

"Which one of those would you like me to answer first?" 

Dipper blinked.  That was... unexpected.  Was she really going to give him answers?  He certainly wasn't used to that.  Bill never gave him a straight away explanation for anything. 

"Um... actually, who are you?  If I can ask that first." 

She nodded.  She stood up and approached him slowly, setting the clipboard on a stand next to the bench.  He instinctively shied away from her, until he was about to fall off the edge of the bench.  She sighed, rolling her eyes. 

"My name is Lorali," she answered.  Before he could move further, she grabbed at his wrist and pulled him to her.  He was surprised at how strong she was.  "And calm down.  I'm not here to hurt you." 

"That was vaguely worded," he said quickly. 

Lorali raised a brow, but still shrugged.  She turned his wrist over as she rolled up his sleeve to his shoulder.  She withdrew a blood pressure cuff from her large pocket and went about wrapping it around his bicep. 

"And your name?" 

"Pi... no," he said, gritting his teeth.  "Dipper." 

She hummed in response. 

"Where, I suppose would be next."  He moved his arm so it was easier for her to get his blood pressure. 

"A prison, outside of Billain," she answered.  She started to squeeze the rubber ball, and Dipper watched her with interest.  He couldn't remember the last time he had seen a real doctor.  It also didn't escape him that she couldn't be that much older than he.  But that would be a few questions down the line. 

"I've never heard of it," he responded. 

"It wasn't here before," she said.  He winced as the cuff gripped his arm.  She shushed him as she put the end of her stethoscope just underneath the cuff and the ear pieces in her ear.  He was quiet, watching the dial on the cuff.  He couldn't remember what the numbers meant, it had never really mattered to him, but it kept him from asking anything more while she was taking her diagnostics. 

After a long moment, the cuff released.  Dipper let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.  Lorali clicked her tongue, picking up her clipboard and writing something down.  "It had some other name before.  I'm not too sure: I was from Boston." 

"Are we in Massachusetts?" 

She shook her head.  "No, still Connecticut.  We're about fifteen miles from where we found you." She set the clipboard down again.  She took something out of the breast pocket of her coat. 

"How did you get here?" 

"We were traveling when... you know." 

Dipper did his best not to move when she put a hand on his forehead, using her thumb to hold his eyelid open as she flicked a light across his eyesight.  As she did one eye and the other, he considered what she had said.  Of course she meant the invasion by Bill and the others, but in that moment, it dawned on him that he didn't know what it had been like for anyone outside of his group.  He had always been with the same people, hunted by Bill Cipher and chased into hiding. 

What was it like for everyone else in the world? 

"What... what are you going to do to me?" he finally worked up the nerve to ask. 

Lorali gave him a solemn look.  "All I am is acting doctor," she said.  "Everything else... well, it depends on what he wants, if he gets bored..." 

"Who?  Bill?" 

She looked confused.  "Bill?" 

"Bill Cipher...?  Evil, douchebag of a triangle?"  He made a triangle shape with his fingers.  When she didn't seem to get what he meant, he weakly added, "...wears a top hat?" 

"I think I've heard the name."  She pulled on his chin, and he opened his mouth so she could shine the light down his throat.  "But I work for Eightball." 

Dipper had to think for a moment.  He had only seen Bill's cronies once, back in Gravity Falls, and he vaguely could form the shape of which one was Eightball.  He was sure Bill had mentioned him during his ramblings of the territory disputes, but he couldn't place what the context was for that.  And that lack of memory bothered him, because there was something he was missing in that, he knew.  There was something he should remember about him, but he just didn't. 

The only thing he could fully remember was that the eastern seaboard didn't belong to Bill.  He hadn't thought much of it when Bill had brought it up before, too busy thinking of other things, but he did remember thinking that any part not owned by Bill was just for show.  He assumed that Bill was just letting his henchpeople play around in areas, but now that he gave it more of a moment, why would he get so frustrated by the arguments over land? 

"So this... are we... I guess this is his territory?" 

She nodded.  She put the penlight away before she leaned him forward by his shoulder. 

"What's been going on here?" 

"Take a deep breath," she instructed.  He did so, feeling the cold of her stethoscope on his back, just under his shirt.  "Don't you know?"  She moved the metal, telling him to breathe in again.  "Where have you been?" 

"It's a long story," he admitted.  "I was in New York for a lot of what's been going on."  He took another breath when she moved it again.  "I'm not sure what the rest of the world went through." 

Lorali hummed.  She leaned him back, putting the stethoscope on his chest.  He took in another breath.  "I think it was about five years ago when it really started for us," she started.  "We had heard what was happening with the rest of the country, and we just thought... I don't know what my parents were thinking.  But they came here, and then we got caught by his flunkies and thrown into Billain as he was making it." 

"What's happened to the rest of the country?  Even just around here?" 

"For the first years, just destruction and death, really."  She left him be, returning to her clipboard.  "I can't really say for everywhere else, there wasn't exactly a television or anything to tune to, but everyone around here got rounded up to work on the city." 

Dipper was quiet, taking in the information.  "What's the city like?" 

"Big and weirdly well off," she answered in a lighter tone.  "It's self-sustained, and everyone there is living... sort of well?"  She bit her finger, her brows furrowed.  "Yeah, better than dead, I guess..." 

Dipper rose a brow.  "Um...?" 

"Did you ever learn about Rome?" 

Dipper nodded.  "I know a decent amount about it." 

"It's like that," she said.  She rolled up her seat to the edge of the bench, sitting down.  "A lot of people do work, you know, planting, raising animals, things like that, and then we have a noble class, kind of.  Made of Eightball's kind, to keep us in place.  And then we have something like Gladiators." 

"R... really?" 

Lorali gave a nervous laugh.  "I know, right?  Sounds so weird: if I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it, either."  She pulled out a rubber hammer.  "But Eightball likes it, and as long as we give him good shows, he leaves us alone."  She hit his knee.  It jerked.  She hummed. 

"We're not the only city like it, I hear.  But we're his favourite."  She hit the other knee.  It didn't kick as much.  "At least, that's what he says." 

"How do you fit in with that?" 

She wheeled away, back to the clipboard on the stand.  "My parents are doctors, and they became the main physicians in town.  They taught me medicine, and then Eightball chose me to help with the inbetweens." 

"Inbetweens?" 

"We clear out the area, see if anyone's still around."  She turned back to him.  "We don't go out that much anymore, it's been cleared out for a while now.  But the day we go to check for some resources..." 

"Yeah, trust me, it wasn't what I was aiming for." 

"What were you aiming for?"  She seemed genuinely interested. 

"Uh... Salem," he answered.  He felt a little odd under her intense gaze. 

"Salem?  I don't think anyone's there; I'm pretty sure there's another built up city near there, and it was cleared out for it." 

"Well, I... was just really looking for something, to, ah... help?" 

Lorali looked him over, a brow raised.  "Help..."  She clicked her tongue.  She tapped the eye around her neck gingerly, an action Dipper thought of as strange, until he saw her pointed look.  He bit the inside of his cheek. 

She turned from him, lifting up the pendant.  "He's ready, Xenfrr." 

"Who is--" 

A word into his question, the door to the office was being swung open.  Dipper looked up to see a large humanoid walking toward him, holding a set of cloth in his hand.  He looked like what would be described as a demon or a satyr.  He had the legs of a goat, long horns that curled at the end, and places covered in fur, but that was the only thing covering him. 

"Wait, who--" 

Xenfrr grabbed at his wrist, pulling him.  "C'mon, we got to get a move on." 

"What?" 

"Wait a moment, I'm going with you."  Lorali stood up, setting down her clipboard. 

Xenfrr growled at her.  He pulled on Dipper again, forcing him to stumble off the bench.  On his feet, he tried to pull away from his tight grasp, but it went unnoticed as he continued to address Lorali.  "I don't need a babysitter." 

"Yes, you do," she corrected.  "Last time, you behaved very poorly."  She put a hand on Dipper's shoulder, he assumed meant to calm him. 

Dipper felt anything but calm. 

Xenfrr and Lorali escorted him down the hall and down a flight of stairs.  He was able to get a better look around at what kind of building he was in, by the few windows they passed.  All were covered in bars, keeping him from the large empty areas outside, surrounded by fences topped with wire.  There were lines on the floor, different colours and striped as needed. 

"Is this a prison?" 

Lorali nodded.  "Best way for us to process people, we've found.  All of Eightball's cities are like this." 

"That's... I guess efficient." 

"'Efficient,'" Xenfrr mocked.  Lorali rolled her eyes at him. 

Dipper raised a brow.  At this point, Xenfrr had a hand gripped to his upper arm, but he wasn't pulling him like before.  "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Xenfrr grinned in response.  Dipper felt a shiver go through his body. 

Their destination turned out to be a large shower room.  There was an awkward few moments when he was commanded to strip.  Dipper was defiant at first, not wanting to disrope in front of anyone, but Xenfrr made it clear it was to be done, either by himself, or with the monster's 'help.'  He reluctantly agreed, and Lorali turned away as he started to remove his clothes. 

Xenfrr watched him eagerly.  Dipper faced away from him as he took his shirt off, hating the way he leered.  He surmised this was the reason Lorali had placed forth, and grimaced at the thought of what it would be like if she weren't there. 

By the time he was naked, Xenfrr had started a nozzle in the middle of the room.  He was looking at him expectantly, and Dipper felt his cheeks heat up.  He looked over at Lorali, but she held a hand over her eyes.  He sighed, and covering himself as best he could, he approached the running water. 

He winced at the temperature.  It was cold, but thankfully not freezing.  He stepped forward slowly, inching more of his body under the spray as well as Xenfrr's gaze.  There was silence as he was handed soap and shampoo and started to clean off the sweat and grime from his trip to the subway to here. 

"What's that?" 

Dipper blinked.  He looked up over the small divider that sectioned off the row of spigots.  He was surprised Lorali was there, but he was silently grateful she was closer now, still wary of Xenfrr's clearly wandering thoughts. 

"What?" 

"Your neck," she said, pointing.  "I didn't see it before." 

Dipper felt at the triangle scar just at his Adam's apple.  The shirt he had been wearing was a turtle neck, so he wasn't surprised it hadn't been found.  He stuttered, not sure if he should admit it to its existence or not. 

"Let me see," Xenfrr interjected.  He grabbed at Dipper's chin, lifting up his head to get a better look.  His brow furrowed as his eyes sank to the eye on his stomach.  He seemed just as surprised to see it as he was the triangle. 

It was clear what Xenfrr had really been concentrating on. 

"Who gave these to you?" Xenfrr asked. 

Dipper pulled away, putting a hand over his neck.  He glared at him, retorting, "Who do you think?" 

Xenfrr stared hard at him for a long moment before his eyes flicked up to Lorali.  "Go tell Eightball." 

Lorali shook her head.  "No," she said firmly. 

Xenfrr turned more to her.  "Excuse me?" 

"I told you, I'm not leaving you alone with him," she insisted.  "You go.  I'll bring him in a few minutes." 

Xenfrr growled, taking a step to her.  He was on the other side of the divider, but the look in his eyes, Dipper didn't think it would matter if he really wanted to get at her.  "Don't you dare-" 

"Do you remember what Eightball said last time?" she interrupted.  "You have to wait your turn."  Her tone didn't waver, saying further, "Or else." 

Xenfrr clicked his tongue.  "Fine."  And then he marched out of the room, muttering the whole way. 

Lorali waited until he was gone before turning back to Dipper.  She settled a towel that she had been holding, hidden by the divider, on a dry spot of the half-wall.  "I'm sorry," was all she said. 

"It's not your fault," Dipper assured her.  Without the stare of the monster, he found it easier to finish up cleaning off. 

"That's not..."  She sighed.  She gave him a forlorn look.  "You're not made to be a gladiator." 

"Well, maybe not," Dipper agreed.  "I have other uses, though.  Not to mention, there's still a chance we can-" 

"You don't get it," she interjected.  Dipper rose a brow.  She shook her head.  "Your new clothes are next to the door.  I'll be over there, when you're ready."  She turned toward the door, where there was a table and a few chairs. 

"Wait." 

She gave him a look. 

"My... I had a bag when you found me," he started.  "Is it... You didn't take anything from it, right?" 

"I inspected it, but didn't take anything." 

"Where is it?" 

"It's in my office." 

"I would like to have it back." 

Lorali didn't answer at first.  "Inbetweens can only have the belongings we give them, until it's decided what your job will be." 

"Oh."  Dipper bit his lip.  "But I will get it back?" 

Lorali nodded. 

"Please," Dipper said.  "Keep it safe." 

"Of course." 

Within ten more minutes, Dipper was finished, dried off, and wearing the clothing he was given.  It was just prison clothes, a little too tight, but otherwise comfortable enough.  Lorali led him further into the compound, to their last destination: a courtyard. 

It was an inner courtyard, probably one used when the weather wasn't the best but the inmates still needed to move around.  It wasn't like a dayroom, though: the walls were too high, the ceilings had skylights, and the ground was concrete, not flooring.  But there wasn't any of the work out equipment that had always been stereotyped in media.  There were just random furniture about, chairs and tables and... mattresses. 

There were various figures in the courtyard.  There were four humans, clearly malnourished by their thin frames, but still healthy enough to stand on their own.  There was two women, a man, and a child, about thirteen.  The women stood at the edges of the courtyard, their heads down.  They looked almost like statues, and it almost seemed they were waiting.  The man was on one of the mattresses, tucked into a ball, and Dipper thought he was sleeping, though it was clear his rest was uneasy.  All of them, when he gave them a scrutinised look, were covered in detailed scars and tattoos, but he couldn't see anything clearer.  All of them had the eye pendants around their necks.  The child was on the end of a leash, kneeling before one of the five beasts. 

Two of the monsters were in chairs, talking amongst themselves and shoving food into their mouths.  None of these three were recognisable to Dipper.  But on the other side of the large room was Xenfrr and who he assumed was Eightball, not by memory, but by the cue balls in his eyes. 

"Eightball," Lorali announced. 

Eightball turned away from Xenfrr, grinning wide, and waving them over.  Lorali didn't move, though.  Dipper looked back at her, brow raised. 

"I don't come in here more than I have to," she said.  "Be safe, Dipper.  And just... relax, it will make things easier."  She patted him on the shoulder.  "I'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure."  She turned away and left on quick feet. 

Dipper turned back to Eightball and Xenfrr, both of whom were gesturing toward him.  He stepped forward, all the while desperately thinking of a way out.  Anything at all, what could he... the enclosed area left no exit, having two monsters on the other side of the door that Lorali had greeted on their way in, so he knew he would couldn't go far that way.  The ceiling was high, too high for him to reach the skylights, and he hadn't memorised the levitation spell that was in the book back in Bill's cage.  There were no other exits than that. 

He gulped, fearing he would have to endure whatever was coming before he would be able to find a way out. 

"This is him," Xenfrr said as Dipper came within a few steps of them.  "Look at his neck." 

Before Dipper could offer anything to the conversation, Eightball reached out, pulling him close by the front of his shirt.  Dipper yelped and grimaced as a hand pulled his head back by his hair, and the mark on his neck was inspected. 

"Where'd ya get this?" 

Dipper winced at the question, more from the stale and sour smell that came with it than the tone of voice.  "Where do you think I got it from?" 

Brows narrowed over the cue balls.  Dipper wondered briefly about the biology of it but pushed the thought aside.  "Are ya Cipher's pet project?" 

Dipper twitched at the term.  "Something like that," he answered. 

"Are these th' only marks?" he asked, gesturing between his neck and stomach. 

Dipper hestiated to answer: "Y... yes." 

Eightball smirked a little.  "He mustn't've liked ya much." 

He raised a brow.  "What makes you say that?" 

"Because 'e didn't finish markin' ya." 

Dipper swatted at Eightball's hand, taking a step back.  He held up his arm, to block his neck, but Eightball just grabbed his wrist, pulling him in again.  "Why didn't he finish markin' you up, huh?"  He put a hand in his hair, and before Dipper could fight him, he found himself turned and on his knees. 

"Come here, Thea," Eightball barked out. 

One of the women, the paler of the two, moved from her statuesque stance, and approached them.  Eightball's hand, still tight in his hair, tilted his head up to look at her.  "Show 'im who you belong to, sweets." 

She nodded.  She was quiet at she started to show him different parts of her body, from her face to her arms to her neck and stomach, lifting up her skirt to show his legs, turning around to show her back.  All over, she was showing off her scars and tattoos, all things Dipper had noticed, but it was clear up close, all of them had the eightball symbol.  Just like Lorali's. 

"Thank ya, Thea," Eightball purred, running a hand along her cheek.  She flinched under the touch, visibly uncomfortable, but didn't move further than that.  "Sit there, stay put for a tick." 

Thea gave a solemn nod before sitting down, crossing her legs, and keeping her head down. 

"See?" Eightball asked.  He pulled back on Dipper's hair, making him look up.  "That's properly marked.  Anyone can see 'em, know they are mine, no matter what part of 'em they look at." 

Dipper narrowed his brow.  "Then I'd think Bill got his point across, didn't he?"  He winced when he pulled away, some of his locks still in his fingers, but he didn't care as he got some distance between himself and the demon.  "You know who these marks are from," he said, putting a hand over his neck.  "That means I'm marked enough." 

Eightball's smirk didn't falter.  "It doesn't mean that, actually."  He gestured his head, motioning at the child sitting beside the one monster.  "Look at 'im, he's got all the same marks."  He then looked between the man on the bed and the other woman.  "They all do." 

He reached for Dipper again.  "Because they're all mine."   

Dipper slid back again.  "I'm not," he hissed.  The next words left him before he could think about them: "I belong to Bill Cipher." 

The sentence was venom in his mouth.  He was just grateful the triangle asshole wasn't around to hear him. 

Eightball threw his head back, letting out a raucous bit of laughter.  He looked down at Dipper, a glint in his eyes, like a hunter going after its prey. 

"You misunderstand, little thing," he said.  "If ya aren't properly marked, ya aren't truly owned.  It was the agreement all of us - including Cipher - made." 

Dipper glared at him in response.  Things clicked in his head, how Bill had been so eager to start cutting him up, how he didn't want Dipper to leave his side when they left the cage.  He wasn't worried that Dipper would leave, he would always be able to find him: _unless he wasn't in Bill's_ _territory._  

But he wasn't in Bill's territory.  He was in Eightball's. 

"It means, sweet one," he said, stepping toward him, "that you're free game." 

Dipper wasn't quick enough to get away from Eightball this time.  The monster grabbed him by the neck, pulling him forward.  He didn't squeeze harder than to keep him in his grasp, but it still wasn't gentle.  He kept Dipper on his knees, his other hand coming to stroke his face before taking his chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

"What was Cipher usin' ya for, I wonder?"  He traced his lip with his thumb.  "Ya aren't th' prettiest thing that's come through here, so he didn't keep ya for aesthetics, now did he?" 

Dipper growled, his whole body tensing up.  He flinched back, but the hand on his throat held him firmly in place. 

"Nah, I bet he kept ya 'round for other reasons."  Eightball pushed his thumb between Dipper's lips.  

Dipper snarled around the digit.  It wasn't an unfamiliar action, Bill had done something similar, but it was different.  Everything was different than Bill.  Even the hungry look in his eyes, it was beyond monstrous. 

"What do you think Bill is going to do to you?" Dipper hissed.  "How do you think this is going to look to him?" 

Eightball snickered.  "All of this continent was meant for me," he said.  He pushed his thumb past his teeth.  "But he kept it, said I didn't need the whole thing."  He twisted his thumb and pulled forward, a little too close to his anatomy than Dipper cared for. 

"Consider this taking what's owed to me." 

Eightball removed his hand from Dipper's mouth, and he spat as soon as it was gone, doing what he can to get the vile taste out of his mouth. 

"Ya should get used to what I give ya," he commented.  He reached between his legs, rubbing at a slit in his skin.  Slowly, a length grew from the area, thick and green in colour.  Dipper scrunched his nose, drawing to pull away from the grotesque sight. 

"Aw, don't be shy."  He moved the hand from his throat to his hair, keeping a tight grip in his curls as he pulled him forward.  "This is what ya were used for, wasn't it?" 

Dipper didn't open his mouth when he was pushed onto the raising member.  It blunted across his face, and he roughly pulled back, only to be stopped by the hand in his hair.  He put a hand on his hip, trying to push him away to no avail. 

"This is gonna to happen," Eightball growled.  "One way or 'nother." 

Eightball pulled again, and this time, Dipper opened his mouth, though reluctantly.  He winced around the member, the smell of it hitting him before the taste.  It was more disgusting than the finger in his mouth just a moment ago. 

For a moment, he longed for Bill.  Every time this scenario came up, no matter the pressure, it always came to Dipper to really putting things into motion. 

"There we go."  The monster let out a sigh as he pushed further into Dipper's mouth.  Dipper gagged in response.  It was much bigger than he was used to, thicker and longer.  He didn't think he could take all of it, and he didn't even want to. 

"C'mon, now, further down," he said, pulling his hair. 

Dipper furrowed his brow.  He growled and muttered something, muffled by the flesh.  Eightball screamed, pushing him to the ground as he grabbed onto his member.  He glared down at the human, who was sitting up, rubbing the back of his head. 

"What th' fuck was that!?" Eightball screamed. 

Dipper spit out what bile had collected in his mouth from the event.  He got to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips.   

He had only memorised the Pain spell as a throw away thought, but he was glad he had.  He just wished he had used it sooner, but it was hard to make such decisions with the flurry of things that had happened since he woke up in the infirmary. 

"Cipher teach ya some magic, huh?"  He grunted, but didn't seem too perturbed.  "Thea, come." 

Thea stood and made the short walk to him.  She squeaked when he pulled her by her hair to him.  She didn't fight him, even when he kissed her almost violently.  She did scream after a moment, blood seeping out of the sides of her mouth.  He pulled away, muscle between his teeth.  He leaned his head back, chewing and swallowing as more blood came from her mouth. 

Eightball pulled on her hair, holding her still, as he reigned back and punched her in the mouth.  She screamed again and more as he punched her three more times.  He let go of her hair, and she fell to the floor, spitting, teeth falling to the ground. 

"Go get her outta here," he said, stepping over her body.  Xenfrr nodded, heading to the door, to come back with one of the guards.  He picked her up roughly by her upper arm, dragging her, bleeding and crying, out of the courtyard. 

All the while, Dipper stared, his eyes wide.  Any thought he had of running, of fighting, was halted by the all too quick actions of his newest captor.  His feet were frozen to the ground it seemed, as he just stared on, even as Eightball stepped back to him. 

"Can't do much without a tongue, can ya?" 

Dipper gulped. 

"But I have a preference for ya to keep it."  The cue balls screwed up, looking to Xenfrr.  "Grab his hands." 

"Wait, no--" 

Dipper took one step to turn, but was halted by a large body in his way.  His wrists were gripped, and his body was twisted, his arms behind his back.  He struggled, kicking out, though it seemed meaningless as he was lowered to the ground.  He didn't go easily, but with Eightball's hands holding down his thighs, it didn't matter. 

"Oh, keep that up," Eightball purred out as he ripped up his pants.  "I like a little fight, yes."  He leaned over, taking his face in his palm and squeezing.  "But no more of that magic shit, yeah?"  He lifted up his legs, putting his knees to his chest. 

"Stop, please, please, no," Dipper begged, tears welling in his eyes. 

"We can make it work, you know." 

Dipper's froze at the echo of Bill's words.  But it wasn't the same, it wasn't like with him.  Bill meant his words, he was honest when he said he wanted it to be better, that was what the thing in the subway was-- 

Dipper screamed when he was violated.  Eightball only laughed in his face, and he could hear Xenfrr making a similar sound.  But Dipper couldn't find the humour as he felt he was being split open.  He wasn't even half way in and Dipper felt he would pass out from the pain. 

"Stop, stop, stop," Dipper muttered.  It went unheard as Eightball drove himself further inside. 

"Don't strain those pipes too much, beautiful," Xenfrr said, leaning over him.  "I get a turn next." 

Dipper didn't get a chance to respond as Eightball put two fingers in his mouth.  It tasted awful, but he didn't speak against the digits moving in and out subtly.  He cried, but kept himself limp.  He had learned on the worst nights with Bill, no matter how hard he pounded into him, if he relaxed enough, it helped.  It was still too much, Eightball was more than he could handle, but if it meant making it through this so he could later figure out what to do, he had to try it. 

He hadn't gone through all that with Bill just to roll over and give up now. 

Dipper closed his eyes tight, as Eightball continued his assault on his body. 

"See, ya must be his slut," he said between thrusts.  "Don't ya think he likes it, Xenfrr?" 

"Oh, yeah, he really likes it," Xenfrr agreed.  "I bet there's more he'd like..." 

"No, no," Dipper started repeating again. 

They both laughed at him. 

"I don't think he's ready for that kind of fun yet."  He continued to talk, thrusting into Dipper, not paying attention to the discomfort clear on Dipper's face.  "But I'll tell ya what; ya can have 'im when you go to clean him off."  He moved his fingers from his mouth, to hold his legs apart as he moved his hips harder and faster.  Dipper cried out, but it was ignored. 

"I know how much ya love fuckin' in there." 

Lorali's concern from before made perfect sense. 

"Thanks!" Xenfrr replied, his tone light and grateful.  He could feel the monster's eagerness on the back of his neck. 

They laughed again, before Eightball turned his focus back on the body beneath him.  He grunted as he bucked hard into him.  Dipper knew this stop, he recognised this part all too well, and though he was grateful it was almost over, all he could think of was how he didn't want Eightball's seed inside of him. 

He would much prefer it to be Bill's, but that was not a revelation he could really acknowledge at the time. 

Unfortunately, when he was done, Eightball pushed deep inside, grunting loudly in his ear, as he spilled inside of him.  Dipper cried out, turning his head away as he was filled. 

Dipper was still crying as Eightball pulled out, his semen leaking from him.  "Good, huh?" 

Dipper didn't look at him, staying completely silent. 

Eightball stood up, shaking his penis of the excess.  He hummed pleasantly, admiring Dipper's abused body.  He flicked his cue balls to Xenfrr.  "Yer turn, friend." 

Dipper only vaguely heard the monster's snicker as he was lifted off the ground.  He kept his eyes closed, crying quietly as he was led out of the courtyard.  Eightball was laughing as they walked out, leaving Dipper with thoughts, grief of this somehow worse situation than what he had just left from. 

How long this would last, was what he was left with, as he was dragged back to the showers. 


	13. Chains and Binding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all right, Dipper. It's only for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of updates, guys! Life and conventions and kind of weird inspiration shifts has kept me from this. I do plan on finishing this story no matter what, that I can assure. I still hope to do another BillDip story after this, but I'm not sure which one of my many ideas to go with. Hmm.  
> Anyway.  
> I hope you enjoy?

The next ten days were hell for Dipper. 

His first encounter with Eightball was just the tip of the iceberg.  Xenfrr made good on his offer and had him pressed face first into the tile only moments after leaving the courtyard.  Half way through, one of the other monsters came in, saying all he wanted to do was watch.  They both conversed casually while Xenfrr kept pounding into Dipper's frame. 

This was common behaviour for them.  It was like all those movies of old men standing around, talking among each other, while paying no mind as they played golf.  The hit didn't matter unless it was exceptionally good and attention was only paid at certain moments.  That's what it was like for Dipper and the other humans kept for their entertainment.  They would get fucked, beaten, played with, whatever they wanted, while they still held conversations. 

Before Dipper went to bed the first night, he was sent back to Lorali, who looked him over.  She gave him a salve for his abused backside, but other than that, there wasn't much she could do.  Dipper was given a cell to himself, locked in for the night, and handed a tray full of what he presumed was called food before the lights went out an hour later.  He didn't sleep well, rest not truly coming when his subconscious feared for the worst. 

Dipper did not dream. 

In the morning, he would start his new routine.  Food was first, the same disgusting mess that he was given at night.  He was then escorted to the infirmary by Xenfrr, who just kept a hungry eye on him the entire time.  He met with the other humans there, but was silenced anytime he tried to speak to them.  They were only allowed to speak to Lorali, telling her if anything hurt or needed to be looked at.  

Thea wasn't there.  Dipper asked, and Lorali assured him she would be fine.  She was taken to the city and would be treated well.  When he asked for more information, he was snatched up by Xenfrr, who led them all to the showers.  He watched them as they bathed, still in silence, until he finally participated.  This was what he did in the mornings, Dipper would come to find out.  He'd pick one of them, pushing them into the divider and giving them a reason to need to wash off again.  Dipper was chosen his first morning, but after that, it seemed random. 

From there, they were taken to the courtyard, where the day would truly begin.  The whole of it wasn't used for their abuse; mostly it was standing around while they chatted, until one of them was summoned for their amusement.  Dipper was passed around a lot on that first full day, each of them wanting to get familiar with the new toy.  None of them were gentle, even taking turns one after another, leaving Dipper no true time to recover.  The only saving grace that day was that they went one at a time. 

That only lasted the one day.  The next, Eightball had his penis almost down Dipper's throat while one of the others fucked him.  And that was the tamest thing they did together. 

He fought what he could, making it evident he wouldn't go easily, but it would get him a punch to the stomach or hard slap across the face.  Inevitably, he would be used, but he couldn't bare himself if he didn't make a show of his distaste for the circumstances he was in. 

The only reprieve he got was that he wasn't the only one.  Though the first day was about him, after that, they went back to their usual, going between all of their choices.  Three days later, another woman was brought in, to take Thea's place.  That day felt like a day off.  He figured that's what the others felt like on his first day. 

Every day started with a visit to Lorali and ended with a visit to Lorali.  She took care of what she could, which wasn't more than bandages and creams to their innards.  Every now and again, he got a moment alone with her, where he would ask more questions, but he didn't get much time to discuss with her anything telling, not before he was whisked away to his cell. 

At night, he didn't sleep well, the little he did.  He never really felt rested, being on edge the entire time in his cell.  That was probably egged on how one of the other beasts stole away into his cell the second night, holding him down as he violated him in the bed.  After that, Dipper could find no peace, no true rest, and no real sleep. 

He didn't dream. 

Dipper got into the swing of things after a few days.  It wasn't good, he didn't like it, and he was hurting all the time, but he knew when to move and what they wanted and when.  His fight only lasted the first few days.  He blamed it on his training from Bill, but he silently hoped that if he did as he was told and seemed eager, it would mean less brutality.  That's what it meant in the cage, at least: Bill was gentler the more Dipper participated, so he hoped they would be the same. 

Unfortunately, they weren't.  It seemed more on their mood than anything else.  Some days they were calm, others they were looking for a punching bag.  The beatings went around the group, but were still cruel.  Those were the days Lorali had her work cut out for her. 

The few moments Dipper had alone, he cried.  He sobbed and sobbed until nothing was left in him.  When he was done, he would stare at the bars of his cell, thinking of what he could possibly do.  He went through the spells he had memorised, what could possibly be of use, but nothing would help.  He had only learned what he needed for his escape from Bill, figuring he could use the book for anything else.  That Pain spell was too centralised and he knew from what Lorali had told him, that the prison was barricaded to keep them from just running out. 

Dipper had asked Lorali for his backpack, but she made it clear they weren't allowed to have personal belongings.  He tried to devise something more, but between the hunger and constant pain, it would be hard to use strength to get out.  Maybe stealth, but he was hardly left with a time to run.  He thought of using the invisibility spell, but couldn't get the way to write it without blood. 

However, when he did consider using his blood, he came to the conclusion not to use it.  Maybe he would get out of the cell, even maybe get out of the prison, he could only get so far with the eyeball around his neck, given to him the day after he was taken there.  He had tried to stab it, but it seemed impervious to it, like a squeaky toy bouncing back.  He tried blinding it, but Xenfrr came quick to fix it. 

It explained the apathy he had seen in the others, how they just stood in their places in the courtyard, waiting to be beckoned, the fight having completely left them.  Dipper would vaguely wonder when that would happen to him. 

Dipper thought of Bill often.  So many times it was while he was being violated.  Were the situation different, he could find the irony in it all: he thought of Bill while he was assaulted, much like how he would think of William when Bill first began their intimacy.  The difference was William was a fallacy, a lie he had never truly fulfilled, where Bill was a reality that was much unlike the one he currently found himself in. 

He thought of Bill's behaviour toward him.  He thought of how only the first time was completely against his will, how it hurt, but that was the one instance of such treatment.  After that, Bill actively tried to gain his participation, to make him enjoy it, and it was not out of guilt, he knew that.  Bill didn't feel bad for his treatment of Dipper, and he surely didn’t need to do anything to 'make up' for it or absolve himself of his actions by ensuring Dipper also wanted it.  He honestly wanted Dipper to like it as much as he did, which he showed when he listened to his needs and ensuring his own climax. 

It wasn't as if he hadn't considered it before; in fact, he had been sure of it, but he couldn't give the conclusion its affirmative were it not for the juxtaposition of his current circumstance. The monsters he now dealt with didn't care if he wanted it, nonetheless if he enjoyed it.  They did not kiss him, ease him into it, stroke him, anything.  They made fun of him for liking it when he would go limp and let it happen or the few times his body responded against his will, but he did not question the statement like he would have before. 

Because he did enjoy it with Bill, he knew that.  But that's what Bill wanted just as much as he wanted the human. 

Dipper longed for Bill in a way he didn't think he was able to.  In the past he had missed him when he was gone, only really wanting contact more than anything.  At some point, it was more than that; he wanted him there just because he had come to enjoy their time together.  When he had left the last time before the subway, though Dipper had preoccupied himself, he truly wanted Bill back as soon as possible.  At this point, he couldn't tell if it was from the training or from the actual longing of his presence.   

It was something he had purposely ignored, but with the time on his side, he spent lengths thinking of it.  With Bill there, he never gave himself a moment to dwell on it, but now, it was better than thinking about what was happening to him.  It brought him to a crossroads, things he could admit to himself, but he still kept a will against giving into it. 

Because if Dipper explored the thought, he would have to admit Bill possibly meant something more to him than a captor. 

The ninth day, Dipper got the best news he had heard in a while: Eightball and his gang would be gone for a few nights.  From what Dipper gathered in his nightly check up with Lorali, once a month, there was a grand fight in the stadium of Billain, and the monsters were there to cheer on the gladiators.  They stayed the night in town, in some large party where they drunk, ate, and fucked whoever they wanted.  This particular time, they would go to one of the other fighter cities, watching one more fight before coming back.  During the time, there would be guards to watch after the harem in the prison, but otherwise, they would be left alone. 

Lorali had told him the day of the fights, but like she had before, it felt like she wasn't telling him the whole story.  Dipper didn't care, though: he was looking forward to the break from abuse and getting some time to recover.  

He silently hoped he would finally get a chance to dream, as well.  However, it wasn't to happen that evening. 

Dipper woke up to the sound of laughter.  He sat up quickly, looking around in confusion.  The sound was unfamiliar, more human than the beasts he had been dealing with recently.  There was loud chatter, slurred words amid echoing footsteps. 

Two tall, strong, and imposing looking men were led to his cell by a guard, who unlocked and urged them into his small cage.  They were human, to Dipper's surprise, and incredibly intoxicated, to his further befuddlement.  They talked back and forth, how they thought he was 'cute' and breaking him in would be 'fun.'   

When Dipper voiced his confusion, they were at least forth coming that he was to be their reward for winning some battles. 

Dipper did not take this information lightly.  He made a great deal of a fight when they went after him.  They were human, after all: he had made a struggle with creatures stronger and made some headway, why not here? 

They were put at bay for several moments, between his kicks and Pain spell.  They finally got the drop on him, as one held his arms behind his back and the other punched him in the stomach and face several times.  When he was freed and dropped to the floor, the kicked him in the side and legs.  Soon it hurt to move, to scream, to do anything more. 

The rest of the night they took turns with his mouth and backside.  In the morning, they left him when the guard came to retrieve them, laughing and joking about it all the while. 

Dipper had to be carried to the infirmary that morning.  He was the only one there, as Lorali had taken care of the others before devoted a great deal of her day to him.  She gave him primarily tests, took some blood, and was even able to take x-rays.  All the while, Dipper barely moved, letting her do whatever she needed as he closed his eyes to get something like rest.  She didn't talk to him other than a few questions.  He was grateful for it, as breathing wasn't the most easy-going thing until he controlled it to be as steady as possible, despite the pain he felt. 

Long into his exam, Dipper came limping out of the bathroom, zipping up his jeans.  He was slow as he walked and sat back on the bench, wincing as he eased on the worn leather. 

"Well?" she asked, clipboard at the ready. 

"No blood, either way," he answered.  He would have found the question far too personal days before, but after the pain in his abdomen, he found he was also relieved by the information. 

Lorali nodded.  "Good."  She marked something on the chart.  "That was honestly my biggest worry.  Your stomach isn't rigid, either." 

"Thank god they went for the fleshy bits," Dipper snarked back. 

Lorali ignored him. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she said.  She stood up from her chair, mentioning she needed his shirt off.  She helped him, but it was still slow, as they had gotten some good kicks to his shoulder blade.  She frowned, as she did normally, but she also had a deep apologetic look the entire time. 

"Why didn't you?" 

She sighed.  She left him a moment to rummage through a cabinet on the other side of the room.  "I figured it would be you," she answered.  "But I couldn't be certain.  I guess I just didn't want to worry you.  You seemed so happy to have a night off..." 

"I'd think anyone would want a night off," Dipper muttered. 

"We don't get nights off." 

Dipper just watched her, not replying. 

 She came back and started to take care of the few cuts he had sustained during his attack.  His face had the most obvious damage, abrasions and bruises all over.  He had to hold a cold compress to his cheek, and he knew he had a noticeable black eye.  His lip was busted, and there was blood from his forehead.  He didn't really care what it looked like, though; his concern was more for how it felt. 

He winced when she put ointment on it, but kept himself from flinching away.  They remained quiet as she tended to him, putting butterfly band aids on the cuts over his brow. 

It wasn't until he had his pants off so she could wrap up his bruised legs that he finally spoke. 

"Bill never did this." 

Lorali stopped, still half a roll of Ace to go through.  She looked up at him, brow raised.  "Cipher?" she asked after a great length. 

Dipper blinked.  He hadn't even known he spoken at first.  His thoughts had been surrounded by the triangle, yes, remembering how things were just a couple of weeks ago, but he was surprised how the words just fell from his mouth so easily. 

"Ah, I..."  He bit his lip, but winced as he nipped at the cut.  "Right, Cipher." 

"So he...?" 

Dipper wasn't looking at her when he nodded.  "It... it wasn't like this, though."  He held out his arm, they only got his right one, as she wrapped his wrist, just in case.  "He never hit me.  He never beat me."  He scrunched his nose as he thought.  "We argued some, that was about it." 

Lorali blinked.  "That's nothing like in here." 

Dipper gave a hollow chuckle.  "It was nothing like in here," he admitted.  "He actually took care of me."  He huffed.  "Even if he was a jerk about it sometimes." 

She hummed in response. 

"He was forceful, but really... it felt..."  He closed his eyes.  When he opened them, he focused on the light box on the other side of the room.  "I think... I think he cared about me." 

"I don't think any of them are capable of such a thing."  She moved on to his chest, covering some abrasions with antiseptic. 

"I didn't think so either, but..."  He thought hard about it.  It was a consideration he had been making, that Bill did have some concern for his wellbeing beyond 'is my human okay to fuck.'  Otherwise he wouldn't have given him so much, all the books, the games, the food (when he wasn't being an asshole about it). 

Did Bill learn to be human after faking for so long? 

"Dipper?" Lorali broached his reverie. 

Dipper blinked and looked at her.  He wanted to talk to her about this, if only because he wanted to talk to someone about it, but he didn't think today would be a day for it.  A discussion like this would mean revealing something about him, about this relationship, things he wasn't ready to, even yet. 

Maybe later. 

"What happened to Thea?" he finally asked. 

"She's fine," Lorali replied without missing a beat.  She let Dipper drop the former topic simply as she continued, "Of course there was no saving the tongue, but my parents stitched up what was left.  It might be a while before we can get her anything like dentures, though." 

"So she's in Billain?"  He had been wondering for days now what happened to her, but all he had gotten before was she was elsewhere.  There was also an answer he was searching for in the outcome of her circumstance. 

Lorali nodded.  She was giving him a look over, finding all the cuts along his chest, sides, and back.  Most of it was bruised, but there were some abrasions that she put ointment and bandages on.  "There's this block in Billain, where the survivors of the monsters go.  They get taken care of very well, especially while they're getting better from whatever they went through." 

"...survivors," Dipper repeated, though it wasn't a question. 

"They can either join the community when they get better or they can effective retire," Lorali explained.  "Either way, the sympathy felt for them keeps them safe for the rest of their lives." 

"Shouldn't they all still be alive?"  

Lorali furrowed her brow.  She purposely didn't look at him as she answered, "Some... couldn't handle the memory." 

Dipper focused on the light box, tracing his thankfully not broken ribs with his eyes.  He avoided that thought, knowing his own entanglement with the idea.  But it had been such a long time since he'd thought about it, even after Bill's intimacy.  It was only at his loneliest did he ever think of it. 

He thought of Bill's question from the dream, if Dipper could handle being alone again.  He bit his lip despite the pain. 

"Do you... have something that can help me sleep?" Dipper hesitantly asked. 

Lorali handed him back his shirt, saying, "I do, actually.  I don't use it too often, but you need as much rest as you can before Eightball gets back.  He doesn't actually pay much respect to my medical advice." 

Dipper rolled his eyes.  "That's not surprising."  He pulled up his pants as she wandered back over to the cabinet. 

"Let's get some food in you, then I'll give you the sedative." 

Dipper nodded eagerly.  "That sounds great." 

 

There was silk and comfort around Dipper when he opened his eyes.  It was familiar and warm, and for several moments, he didn't want to leave the fluff around him.  But there was a tapping, just a ways away, that drove him to sit up. 

Around him was the warm lighting of the cage.  As he got out of the bed, nothing seemed out of place with this.  He stretched, lifting his arms far above his head, letting out a loud yawn.  Nothing was odd as he padded his way across the room, toward the bathroom. 

The mural of Bill on the door didn't seem out of place, though he hadn't remembered it being there before.  The only thing that halted him was the knob disappearing in his hand as he was turning it.  He frowned, but he hadn't really needed to go anyway, so he turned away. 

He stopped short, eyes wide as he saw the wall to wall images of Bill.  He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.  He took in a deep breath before looking up again.  It wasn't that far out there for Bill to plaster himself everywhere, how vain he was, but seeing him in every corner was unnerving. 

It was a long moment before something occurred to Dipper: the eye of every portrait was looking toward a door opposite the hallway.  Dipper blinked, scrutinising the threshold, one he did not recognise.  The only ways out of the bedroom had been the bathroom and the hall to the living room.  He stared at it a long moment before crossing the room toward it. 

The room on the other side of the door was dark.  The air was damp and smelled ionised.  He knew that smell, he remembered it well. 

Dipper winced when the room was bathed in bright, blue-white light.  As a whirling noise began, the outline of an inverted triangle stood in front of him.  He walked around it, eyeing the pillars of light on either side of it as he crossed in front.  He looked around the circle in the middle, lit up with images of a far off galaxy. 

Dipper stared at the portal long and hard, willing the pieces to make more sense to him.  This didn't seem out of the norm, but he knew, he knew it wasn't here all along.  He would have used it, would have done something, what could he, but he would have- 

"Don't get too close," came the words through a chuckle.  "You might get sucked in." 

Dipper turned around to face Bill Cipher, no hint of shock on his face.  Of course he was there, waiting for him.  He was silent at first, before the words came to him: "This is a dream." 

Bill laughed again.  He pushed off the glass, striding over to him slowly.  "Of course it is." 

Dipper shook his head.  "I mean..."  He looked back at the portal.  "That isn't really there." 

"Oh, but it is."  He sauntered to his side, coming just within reach.  "It's always been here." 

He set his eyes on Bill.  "We've... we've been in Gravity Falls the entire time?"   

Bill didn't answer.  He wound an arm around Dipper's waist, pulling him close.  Dipper didn't even tense, instead almost instantly relaxing into his body.  Bill hummed, kissing his temple.  "If there was one thing you would say I've done wrong in all of this, what would it be?" 

"Only one?" Dipper easily retorted. 

Bill snickered.  "I would say it's honesty." 

"Honesty," Dipper repeated.  Of all the things that had happened between them, from the first time he met him in Stanley's mind to now, honesty is what he picks.  He scoffed. 

Bill rounded him, coming to hold him by the waist from behind, and put his chin on his shoulder.  Dipper didn't move, staring at the symbols around the portal.  "I should have been more honest with you," he said low.  "I should have told you what I had planned for you from the moment I brought you out of the subway." 

"I guess it would have been too much to ask for honesty since William," Dipper said bitterly. 

"That's not the what-if we're talking about right now, Pine Tree."  A hand moved over his stomach in something like an intimate gesture.  Dipper sighed at the motion, despite himself.  "Another time, we'll entertain that.  That was all part of the plan." 

"What does that mean?" 

"I always intended the best," he went on, ignoring his question.  "Of course, I had my own intentions, things I needed first...  And I think you have to agree, it wasn't all that bad." 

Dipper put a hand on top of one of Bill's forearms.  "Not being bad doesn't mean wanted, Bill." 

"Is that completely true, though?" he purred into his ear.  "Nonetheless your reluctance to admit such simple things, I wanted you for more than such simplistic reasons."  He ran a hand under his shirt.  "I was going to bring you out of there, let you walk about freely, when I thought you were ready.  But I suppose that's a time off, now..." 

"What else did you expect me to do?" 

Bill chuckled.  "Point there," he said.  "I guess I was testing the waters, see how far along we were..."  He caressed the skin under his fingertips, softer than Dipper was used to. 

"I'm always going to look for a way to stop you," Dipper said. 

"Weigh that option," Bill whispered into his ear.  "Because I can give you a better one." 

Dipper clicked his tongue. 

"Of course, you have to come home first."  He chuckled.  "If you're done playing around, of course." 

Dipper stiffened at the words.  He thought about it, what that would mean.  Go back to Bill, to the cage, to being on his knees for him almost every day.  But that, in every way, was still better than the hell he was going through right now.  At least, in a way, his kneeling was a choice for Bill. 

For a long time, neither said anything.  Dipper gripped onto Bill's arm, the pads of his fingers sinking in.  He bit his bottom lip, trying to control the thoughts that came to him.  He tried to keep a lid on it, how he had felt for so many days now, but he caved under Bill's rare gentleness.  It was such a stark contrast to the treatment he had been through lately, he couldn't contain what it welled up inside of him. 

"Pine Tree," he heard Bill say.  His hold on him tightened, and it wasn't until he felt himself being held up that he realised his knees had given way. 

Dipper spun around, grabbing hold of the front of Bill's shirt and burying his face in his chest.  Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes, but he far from wanted him to see it.  He clung to him, and at first, Bill did nothing.  He said nothing, he made no move.  Finally, he put his arms around Dipper and gave him a squeeze. 

"Dipper," he whispered into his ear.  "What do you want me to do?" 

"Come get me," was Dipper's finite response.  "Please, please, come get me." 

"So you're bored of running around the forest?" 

"No, no, that's not..."  Dipper took in a deep breath.   

"Tell me where you are, Pine Tree."  He rubbed his back.  "Tell me where to find you." 

"I don't... I don't know where I am, not completely." 

"That's all right, there's another way."   

Dipper tensed a little when he felt Bill's fingers near his ear.  He gasped when he felt something pull, leaving his ear as Bill pulled it away.  He turned his head so slightly, to see what looked like a reel of film come from his head. 

"Bill-" 

"When should I look for?" 

Dipper thought for a second.  "Right before the beach..." 

Bill nodded.  He kept one hand around his waist as he held the film into the air, pulling on it, making a straight line as the film flattened and began to roll.  A sphere of light appeared behind it, and within an instant he could hear what sounded like an old projector as the reel started.  He turned just a bit more to see the makeshift movie play on the starlit circle of the portal. 

The first thing that played was the morning he woke up to see Lorali.  He thought for a moment, if this would help.  "No, go back, one more day," he said.  "I can't, I don't remember the names of the roads, and it was out of the way." 

Bill twirled his finger, and the movie rewound quickly.  Dipper watched eagerly, waiting for the right second.  When he saw himself through his own eyes getting off on the ramp.  He put a hand on his wrist, saying, "Start there.  Look at the sign..." 

Bill looked between him and the screen.  "So I just need to go—" 

"No, keep watching, it's... it's down the way," he went on, still watching.  Bill sped it up just enough that it was only a moment more before Dipper was finding a spot off the side of the road to sleep.   

"It's about fifteen miles from there, a prison." 

"I'll just watch for myself." 

"No, it's not that..." 

He watched it roll for a few more moments, as the night went into day, as he spoke with Lorali before being knocked out.  He winced at the memory, but said nothing as it went on to show the dream on the beach.  When he saw the light in the infirmary, though, that was too much. 

Dipper put a hand over the light, blacking out the image though the reel kept rolling.  "Stop, just stop it there." 

Bill raised a brow.  "Why?" 

"Just... please, please don't..." 

The look Bill gave him was sincere in its curiosity.  He pulled Dipper into him, burying his head back in chest as he moved his hand away from the reel.  He nuzzled into his shirt, ignoring the sound of the film rolling. 

Bill was quiet as he watched.  Dipper didn't turn his head, opting to hold onto his shirt.  Bill's grip tightened around him a little more as the film went on.  After what felt like an agonising eternity, he heard the reel sputter out and stop.  Even then, he remained hidden. 

"Pine Tree." 

The sound that left him was something like a choked sigh.  "Please..." 

Bill pushed him away a little.  He lifted his chin up, forcing him to look him in the eye.  Dipper shrunk a little at the hardened glare he saw, but he had a feeling it wasn't for him.  Bill leaned in, giving him a rough but meaningful kiss. 

"Just a little longer," he said low.  "Stay strong for me just a little longer."  Dipper closed his eyes as Bill kissed his forehead. 

"I'm coming for you." 

 

Dipper's eyes sprung open.  He was being jostled around, his body moving against his will.  His first response was to struggle, to kick out and punch, much like he had on nights his cell was visited.  He was met with laughter and a punch to the side of his head.  It made his ears ring and his visual swell. 

The laughter only got louder. 

"Look who's finally awake," he heard. 

Dipper lifted himself just a little to get a better view.  He saw the walls creep by him as he was carried.  He recognised them as the ones leading to the courtyard.  Beneath him was the body of a monster, and it wasn't much more of a moment before he realised he had been thrown over the shoulder of the largest of the monsters, Shyfen.  There were two others to his sides, Gallit and Salvish. 

"What—" 

Galiit smacked him upside the head.  Dipper reached up, rubbing at the spot, but didn't say anything else.  He gritted his teeth, glaring at the fat monster. 

"Save your energy, there's no need to get so fussy," he said.  "Yet."  He laughed, the sound grotesque. 

Dipper opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by the loud bustle of the courtyard doors opening.  Galiit shouted their presence into the room.  Dipper could hear Xenfrr's voice, responding in a too jovial tone to join them.  Within a moment, Dipper was on his back on one of the mattresses. 

Five monstrous faces were staring down at him, their grins disturbing, more so than usual. 

Dipper got out more this time.  "What are you-" 

"It's th' day," Eightball said.  He was near Dipper's legs, holding down his hips as he struggled again.  "Get 'is arms," he commanded Xenfrr.  He easily did was he was told, tying Dipper's arms quickly with rope and lying him back down, trapping his hands in the small of his back. 

Like Bill had done before, but this, like so many other overlapping scenes, was not the same.  Bill had no reason to tie him up, as he stopped struggling against him within weeks of their entanglement, and only continued to because he genuinely enjoyed the bondage.  But these creatures, they knew.  Dipper had made it clear to them he would fight back given any means to do so.  That was why the continued to hold him down. 

For a moment, Dipper was able to look around.  His fellow captives were in the far corner of the courtyard, turned away, huddled together as they ignored what was about to transpire. 

Eightball gave Galiit and Shyfen a look, and both grabbed at an ankle, holding his legs taut. 

"Ya know what's gonna happen?"  Eightball asked, his cue balls staring intently at the young man.  He held something in his hand, what looked like a sharpened pen. 

Dipper shook his head.  "Whatever it is, I don't care." 

"Oh, but yer going to," he quipped back.  He gripped at Dipper's shirt, ripping it off him in one action, leaving his chest exposed.  "Th' boys said ya did 'em well, if ya were a bit mouthy 'bout it."  He ran pointed and ridged nails on his stomach.  Dipper shuddered at the action. 

"Me an' the guys, we talked it over." 

Dipper glared at him.  "Meaning?" 

"Meanin'," Eightball started, the tip of the pen coming to just above the tip of the eye on his naval, "we've decided to keep ya, just for us."  Dipper twitched and cried out when the tip pierced his skin.  "But that means we have to mark ya." 

"Stop, stop!" Dipper shouted, trying to twist his body. 

"Salvish, could ya shut 'im up for me?" 

The impish creature nodded enthusiastically.  He positioned his feet on either side of Dipper's head and took a handful of his hair in his hand.  Dipper grunted and yelped, only to be silenced as the stubbed erection was forced into his mouth.  He gagged on it, not moving any. 

"Better do yer work, slut," Salvish demanded.  Dipper felt the tips of claws sink into his skin.  He knew what he was doing, holding him in place by his flesh.  Salvish liked to do the work, having his victim lay still as he moved, but he still made sure nothing he didn't like happened.  If Dipper moved, he would be further impaled on those pinpoint nails.  Salvish started to move his hips, all that he was expecting was Dipper's tongue to move along him. 

"Much better," Eightball commented.  He could feel the pen move slightly. 

Dipper's thoughts were racing.  As Salvish continued, he desperately thought of what he could do, how he could possibly end this.  He needed to end this.  He couldn't let this beast mark him, he couldn't be claimed by him, to have this happen until he 'retired' to Billain or until they killed him.  He couldn't be his, he couldn't be anyone's but— 

There was a loud bang as the door to the courtyard was flung open.  Eightball stopped abruptly, pulling the pen away as he turned to whoever had entered.  "What th' hell do ya--!?" 

Everything seemed to stop at the words of the voice that responded. 

"Well, well, well, well." 

Eightball was up, off his body, standing and fully turned to the guest.  Salvish pulled out of his mouth and skin, stepping away from him, as he, along with all of them, looked up.  They were silent, apprehension clear on their face. 

Dipper pushed himself up with some effort to stare at the same thing the rest of them had.  The sigh of relief that left him could be felt through his whole body as his eyes caught sight of the visitor. 

There was never a time in his life that he could imagine seeing the visage of Bill Cipher would actually make him something like _joyous_. 

"Bill..." Dipper whispered, a small smile twitching at his lips. 

Bill looked over the courtyard, floating just outside the doors in his triangle form.  He laid eyes on the humans in the corner of the room.  He whistled to them, pointing at the door.  They hurriedly ran for it, Eightball's objections literally silenced by Bill as he held up a hand.  Once they were gone, he turned his attention back to Eightball and his monsters. 

"Cipher," Eightball said.  "What brings you here?" 

Bill floated over to him, his expression even.  "Ah, we're going to treat it that way, then."  He stopped right in front of him, his human inspired body forming below him, keeping his head still non-human.  "Then, if you would kindly, I've come to reclaim my human."  His cane appeared in his hand as he pointed momentarily at Dipper. 

Eightball eyed him, the pair of eights wandering over Bill's faux body, once looking at Dipper, then again at him.  "Nah," he said simply. 

"Oh?" Bill said, tone still without emotion.  "Why not?" 

"Ya didn't claim 'im right," Eightball answered.  "I'm gonna keep him."  He grinned.  "He's really good with 'is mouth, after all." 

His gang snickered behind him.  Dipper glared at all of them. 

Bill's expression was almost bored now.  "You seemed to have taken this as a request," he said.  "Let me assure you, it is not.  I have every intention of leaving here with him." 

"Ya waited a bit to get 'im, now didn't ya?" Eightball bit back.  "Ya know what I've done to 'im while ya lollygagged?  Oh, let me tell ya—" 

"I already know about your violation of my property," Bill interjected.  "And for that, all of you will pay." 

Eightball was silent for a moment.  Finally, he said, "Ya wouldn't—" 

"I would have been here a bit sooner, after finding out where you stole him away," he went on, "but I had to make a pit stop." 

Eightball started a question, but was answered with a rumble beneath them.  In front of the double doors, two large wooden pillars rose from the ground.  Along the poles, there was a body each skewered, much in the way it was always described for the Transylvanian prince of yore.  The slowly slid down, the tips poking from one of their mouths groans still leaving them. 

Dipper recognised them instantly as the gladiators from the other night.  And though he was not conscious of it, a large smile crossed his lips at the sight. 

Bill lifted a hand, and he made an X in the air with a finger.  As he did, chains crossed the double doors, locks gripping into place, enclosing them completely. 

Eightball put up his hands, shaking his head.  "Listen, Cipher, if ya want 'im so bad, just take 'im."  He took a step back.  He chuckled nervously.  "We'll just slip this all unda the rug, right?  Forget all o' this an'—" 

There was a loud yell when the hook sunk into the front of his throat.  Bill pulled him in, his body taking on a burning hue as his brow furrowed.  "No." 

He said nothing else as Eightball was pulled up, the hook positioned just right in the middle of his neck to hit muscle, hanging him without gravity easily pulling him back down.  Bill stared at him a long moment, saying nothing. 

Then he looked over at the group of monsters, still surrounding Dipper.  Each of them made some sort of yelp or cry before trying to scatter, running for the chained up door.  Bill let them get half way there before stringing them up in a similar way to Eightball. 

The courtyard filled with their smothered screams, hard to make with how their necks were impaled.  It sounded more like gurgling, but the noises were clearly of pain.  Bill seemed to pay it no mind as he walked up to Dipper slowly.  He kneeled in front of him, his hue softening back to yellow as he took Dipper's face in his hands. 

"Pine Tree," he said lowly. 

In that moment, Dipper did not care what had happened before.  He didn't care for all the things Bill had done before he ended up in this prison.  None of it mattered for that moment, even if he would later piece together the events would not have happened at all were it not for the monster's intervention on his life. 

What mattered was Bill was here now, finding him, getting him from this hell.  This hell that was far worse than every moment Bill had dominated him, invaded his body, his mind, his soul.  For a moment, he longed to be on his knees for him, taking his seed inside of him, if it meant he could leave this place and never be touched by any of these beasts again. 

That moment, he would give himself to Bill freely and _eagerly_ if it meant to leave this behind. 

"Keep your eyes open," Bill said.  He ran a finger over his cheek.  "I want you to watch this."  He leaned forward, touching the flat of his triangle to Dipper's forehead.  "And know it's for you." 

Dipper could do nothing but nod. 

Bill left him, turning back to the hanging bodies as his triangle faded to red and purple.  He snickered as he lifted his hands.  The room filled with more screams and blood as he started in on them.  He tore at their flesh, pinning them with various objects, craving into them various shapes, but none of them of his own personage.   

On Salvish, he filled his mouth to the brim with various iron rods.  They moved in and out out of time with one another, going further in with each of their thrusts, until they burst out of the back of his head. 

For Shyfen, his skin was assaulted with steel balls, leaving bruises all over, much like he had done several times to Dipper.  They hit him so hard that the shape of the ball could be seen from the other side of his body.   

Galiit was bound and stretched, all the while his length being stroked, and he came despite the pain being inflicting upon him.  It was reminiscent of how the monster would jack off Dipper as he fucked him, insulting him how much he enjoyed being treated like a whore. 

Xenfrr was thrown back to the floor, face in the dirt as his backside was penetrated by wooden pikes, though no hole had originally been there.  A cloud was just above him, drizzling water on him in a steady stream, but where it fell left hissing pock marks of chemical burns. 

All the while, Eightball was still at the highest of them all, forced to watch.  It wasn't until they gave out, their bodies too pummelled to take anything more, that Bill pulled him back down to face him. 

"You know, Eightball," Bill said, running a hand over his cue balls, "you've always been ungrateful."  He curled his fingers around one.  Dipper could hear the flesh squelch as he fit his digits under his skin and closed his fist around the eye.  He pulled back, and Eightball screamed as it was removed. 

"I did not have to share this world with any of you, but I did."  He threw the ball over his shoulder, and it landed just in front of Dipper.  He looked at it for only a moment before returned his gaze to Bill.  His hand was already gripping at the other eye. 

"And still, you whined and complained that I had not given you enough."  Eightball screamed again, and the other eye soon rolled next to the other. 

"Now, you have not only stepped outside of that boundary," he went on, his hand moving downward, "but you've taken something that is _clearly_ ** _mine_**." 

"Cipher, please, please, I didn't—" 

The noise Eightball made was something like a gasp swallowed in the blood in his throat as Bill reached into the slit between his legs.  He reared back, snapping off the member that had violated Dipper so many times in the past two weeks.  Any further protests were snuffed out as Bill stuffed the piece of flesh down his throat. 

"This fault in my kindness is over," he hissed.   A sharpened piece of metal appeared in his hand, wide and flat and long, and he shoved it far into Eightball's body through his front slit.  He dropped his body, stepping away from him.  Below him, Eightball twitched. 

Bill stared at him, his colour changing back.  Dipper watched as hooks dug into the palms and feet of Eightball, and stretching him out until his body was pulled apart.  Blood splattered out of his joints, some of it splashing on his face.  His eyes were wide at the sight, his mouth open. 

Bill was in front of him again, staring down at him.  Dipper slowly looked up at him.  He was silent, eyes still wide.  Bill took out a handkerchief and dabbed at the stains.  They said nothing as Bill slowly cleaned him. 

Dipper relaxed at the touch.  Though his hands were still tied behind his back, his shoulders slumped forward, and he was relying on Bill's hands to hold him up. 

"Bill?" 

"Yes, Pine Tree?" 

Dipper closed his eyes, biting his lip.  "I'm ready to go home." 


	14. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper has been rescued, but does that mean he's been saved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. Long overdue and different than it was originally planned to be in a million ways.  
> And probably added on another chapter, we'll see.  
> But I will be finishing up this story, I promise. And hopefully the sequel that I have planned, ha.

Dipper's grip on Bill had been so tight, he thought for a long moment he had melded with his captor.  The moment Bill had freed his hands, he wrapped himself around him, burying his face into his neck.  He heard something, whispers in his ear, but he couldn't hear him over his sobbing.

He had cried for many reasons since Bill first took him from the subway.  He had cried out of loss, despair, anger.  He had choked out sobs the first time Bill assaulted him, and he had more tears for everything Eightball and his goons did than anything the triangle had put him through.

But now his tears were relief.  He felt safe, truly safe, as Bill held him close, kissing the side of his head.  There was something tender in his ministrations, something beyond comforting, and were he in any other state, he would be able to respond to his kindness in some meaningful way.

Not the blubbering mess he was that moment.

Bill didn't seem to care, though.  He just held him, whispering to him, and keeping him distracted as the world around him faded out and then back in.  It wasn't until he felt something cool on his back that he noticed the change in location.  Dipper opened his eyes slowly, looking around.  It was easy to recognise the tile and light of the bathroom from the cage.  He was leaned against the wall near the shower.

Dipper turned at the side of shuffling, his gaze falling on Bill as the sound of water splayed against tile.  Dipper could feel his body tense at the sound, memories of Xenfrr coming in as a rush with the humidity rising in the room.  Before he could stop himself, he was scooting quickly toward the door, getting as much distance between him and the stall as he could.

Bill had been fiddling with something inside the tiny tiled room, not noticing Dipper right away.  When he turned, Dipper was breathing hard, tucking into himself and covering his ears.

"Oh, Pine Tree..."

He could just barely hear the padding of his feet as he approached him, nothing quick in his steps.  He twitched at the feel of fingers in his hair.  He swallowed thickly, trying to will away his behaviour.  It was nonsense, he knew.  He had just watched the beast die not only ten minutes ago.  And he knew that it was Bill in front of him, no one else.  But the sound brought the memories and the reaction was almost automatic.

"I'm not going to," Bill whispered in his ear.  "I promise, not today."  He looked up at him just as he wrapped his arms around him.  "And that is one promise I've always kept, isn't it?"

Dipper gave him a vacant look.  He was right.  Every time Bill had promised he wouldn't force himself on him, he had kept.  Dipper didn't respond as Bill started to strip him of his pants.  No underwear, not in the prison.  There was no need for it.  There really wasn't a need for any clothes, but Galiit liked ripping them off for some reason, so they stayed on.

It was after Dipper was completely naked that he noticed Bill was equally devoid of clothing.  It felt unusual.  Bill was almost always clothed, even when he fucked him.  It was rare that he was also as bare as Dipper, but as he carried him into the shower, he assumed that was the reason.  It just stood out to him this time.

He was going over many comparisons this time.  Between before, the prison, and now.  Would everything feel this different from now on?  Would he continue to have this almost backwards lens?

Bill was being gentle, he noted as the water started to pour on his body.  The shower stall was large to hold them both comfortably, and if Bill had wanted he could get him on all fours.  He had.  So had Xenfrr.

It didn't hurt the same way when Bill had him on the ground.  It was rough sometimes, but even then, sometimes that felt nice.  Because Bill knew he was a bit of a masochist.  He said he had known since he possessed his body all those years ago and went around experimenting.  So it hurt, but in a way Dipper knew he would enjoy if the situation were different.

Xenfrr didn't know Dipper liked it like that.  He only cared about getting off.  It hurt because he didn't care how Dipper felt, even if he did like it rough.  He got off on the way Dipper cried into the tile, how he would bleed sometimes.  He would even put his face under the spray, choking him.  Sometimes he thought he would drown.

Bill had put his face under the water once when fucking him in the bath.  But by the then, Dipper had lost his fear of death.  Bill didn't want to kill him, he was just a sadist who knew he had a masochist.  Dipper didn't choke, he knew to hold his breath, and Bill had made it clear that was the intent.  Dipper came hard despite himself.  Bill didn't mention it, didn't make fun of him for it.  Just kissed him after he was done and cleaned him up.

Bill was always gentle, in his own contradictory way.  It was just hard to see without context.

"I need you to put your legs down."

Dipper hadn't realised he was still tightly around Bill.  He didn't move at first, but when Bill's arm dipped, he knew he didn't have a choice.  He didn't want to stand.  He didn't want to be in the shower.  He wanted to be in bed and sleep forever.  He didn't want to be awake, knowing that the memories would be too much.

Bill had always given him distraction from what was happening to him.  Eightball made him live with the fear knowing it was going to happen again at any moment.

Everything was different between Bill and Eightball; even if on paper, the situation seemed similar.

Hands were going over his body.  More than two.  When Dipper opened his eyes, he saw the black limbs roaming his body.  Bill was still in front of him, arms around his waist and holding him up, but the detached phantoms made work of cleaning him, soaping him up, washing his hair.  It was the first honest shower he had had in weeks.  The water was just the right temperature as it cascaded over his body.

He rested his cheek on Bill's chest.  Bill kissed the top of his head.  He felt a hand slither between them, running a loofa over his front.  He only parted himself from Bill just enough for this before pulling his suds covered torso to him.  Bill chuckled against his hair, a good natured sound.

Would Bill have been like this had none of this happened?  Could things have been different, had that portal not opened?

Would any of that what-if mean anything without any of what came after?

"Hold on to my shoulders."

Dipper did as he was told.  He didn't have any struggle, not against his voice.  Bill had trained him, but only because a part of him was willing to be trained.  He gripped into his shoulders, and let his torso fall forward with the couple of steps Bill took backward.

"You want to be clean, don't you, Pine Tree?"  The question was spoken in a terse tone.

"Y-yes..."

Could he really be clean, though?  He had thought he was dirty after everything Bill had done, but now, it was on a different level.  He had had so much in him at once, more than he thought he could do, even with Bill's tendrils or the doppelganger thing he did once in a while.  He had two cocks shoved in him, given blow jobs one after the other to all five, been covered in something thick like semen, all more than Bill had done to him at once.  If he hadn't been dirty before, he certainly was now.

Would Bill want him anymore?  And why did it matter to him if he would?

Dipper yelped when he felt his cheeks being spread.  He looked up at Bill, brows furrowed.  "No!" he almost screamed into his face.  "Don't you fucking-"

Bill put a finger to his lips, shushing him.  He had an odd smile for a moment before his face fell to something almost of concern.  "There's my Pine Tree."  The limbs didn't leave his backside, and Dipper shuddered when he felt the loofa run over his entrance.  "I was hoping your spirit wasn't lost."  He leaned in, whispering in his ear, "It's my favourite part of you."

Dipper was sure the gritting of his teeth was audible, but didn't move as one of the tendrils went inside of him.  It was smaller than usual, and was moving around deliberately, and it felt almost like a much softer pipe cleaner.  He moaned at the feeling, unique as it was, but couldn't help himself when it tilted to apply a little more pressure just where it would get a reaction out of him.

"Need to get rid of all of them," Bill said low in his ear.  "Get all of that out of you."  Dipper sighed as the tendril left him.  "It should be only me, I'd think even you'd agree."

Dipper did agree.  He didn't need Bill to know that.

Bill's tendrils continued to clean his nether region, wiping off the perineum and his gentiles before moving down his legs.  He let out a long exhale, relaxing completely under the soft ministrations.  Bill held him, kneading his fingers into his skin.  It was gentle.  Everything was gentle.  Bill's hands, his kisses, his words.  Had they always been gentle?  In a way, they must have been.

They were gentle, so he could be rough later.  That was the truth of it, wasn't it?

How long before those gentle words were used so Bill could fuck him hard?

Soon the shower was over and Bill was drying him off.  At some point, he heard the question about food, if he was hungry, but Dipper didn't know how he responded.  He was making more comparisons, thinking of before and now, the past, the present, the future.  He must have not asked for anything, he surmised during his musings, when Bill had laid him on the bed.

That was okay.  Dipper wasn't hungry, anyway.

Bill laid down with him, getting them both under the covers.  Dipper only vaguely noticed they were both still naked.  He grimaced.  Did Bill only mean he wouldn't go after him in the shower?

Lips were on his neck again.  Dipper was turned away, staring at one of the many murals Bill had plastered of himself.  Something was different, though.  The colours weren't the same.  He squinted, trying to find it out, as hands roamed his chest.

"Bill," he finally said.

"I'm not going to," Bill repeated his earlier statement.

"Then stop," Dipper weakly commanded.  He didn't move, though, he just kept staring at the wall.  He felt numb.  He felt empty.  He felt like someone else looking at himself.  He remembered when Bill had killed the last of his family.  He remembered when he tried to kill himself.  He remembered when Bill raped him.

This was not how he felt during those events.  He came back from those; Bill had left him ways to do as such.  If Bill hadn't found him, though... what would have happened?

"I want to touch you."  Dipper shuddered at the words whispered in his ear.  "I want to feel you here."

Dipper was quiet.  He said nothing further as Bill went back to kissing him.  He moved slightly, giving him more access to his flesh, but for once, Bill didn't overstep his bounds.  He kissed his face and neck and arms and torso, but that was it.  He still couldn't look at him.  His saviour.  His captor.  His tormenter.  His lover.

Had there always been that blue tree in that painting?

Dipper turned slightly to look at another painting.  There was a blue tree behind the yellow triangle.  Look to another, same thing.  Even the few statues on pedestals had a tiny tree on them.

"Bill?"  His voice was small.

"Pine Tree," he replied, but with the wrong tone.  It was a little heady, how he spoke, and his kisses were gaining in pressure.  He still had his boundaries, but Bill was notorious for getting carried away.

"Bill," Dipper said again.  He turned his head to look at him, and this was what seemed to gain his attention.  Mismatched eyes looked at him, brow raised.  "Did you... were you worried I wasn't coming back?"

Bill sighed.  He laid down next to him, pulling Dipper into his arms.  Dipper nestled against him, nuzzling into his chest.  "Let's talk more when you've rested."  He ran a hand through Dipper's curls.  "But I did want you back.  I was hoping."

There was something in his tone again.  Something different.  There was nothing calm in the phrase.  There was just honesty.  The honesty he had sworn to in a dream.

"Bill, do... do you have emotions?"

Dipper had always wondered.  He hadn't wanted to ask.  But the way Bill had been in his dreams, the night in the subway before he had run away, even Bill's eagerness to see him again before all of this, when he had been gone for several days.  He was delighted to see Dipper, and he had ignored it.  He ignored it, because it meant something.  Something he had no idea how to handle.

"Good question," Bill answered.  His chin was on top of Dipper's head, his fingers lazily tracing down his back.  "I think I might."

His tone was even.  It was so easy for him to say.  Was he lying?

"Oh."  Dipper swallowed.  "Okay."

He was in no state to think about what it meant.  It was too much, even on a good day.  So he would deal with it later.  Hash out what it meant between the things that had happened and the things he denied.

Dipper closed his eyes.  Comfortable and safe, he fell asleep in Bill's arms almost too easily.

::*~~*::

Dipper was in the kitchen only moments after waking up.  He had relieved himself first, as is expected when getting back from sleep, but the moment he was done washing his hands, the rumble in his stomach was too loud to argue.

Bill was still asleep when he left the bed.  He had spent a few moments getting out of his grasp, as he held onto him tightly, but he hadn't stirred when Dipper left.  For a moment, he had thought of waking him, just to show him he hadn't left.  It was for a brief second he regretted the way he had left him in the subway.  He thought of Bill's attention the night before, how he had just wanted to touch him, if only to prove to himself that Dipper was indeed there.

He should have woken him.  He should have done something.

But thankfully his stomach spoke over the contemplation that would have come next.

Dipper was silently grateful for the well-stocked fridge.  He had thought that Bill would let what was ever in there go to waste with his absence.  But he could remember Bill asking him about food.  He must have resupplied the kitchen in anticipation of his return when he found where Dipper was.

More things Bill had done to make Dipper's life easier.

Dipper sat at the island with a bowl of cereal.  It tasted odd, like a memory but not exactly right, like all the food Bill had given him.  Bill had told him he didn't know what most human food tasted like, aside from what he had while playing William.  Food was really whatever Dipper thought it should be, not always following the shape of what he ate.  He had a steak once that tasty like Cheetos because it was really what he wanted.  It was odd; he found he didn't miss anything when it came to his taste buds.

Dipper stared straight ahead as he ate his cereal.  He could only vaguely hear his mouth moving or the way the spoon hit the bowl occasionally, but he was elsewhere.  He was trying to keep his mind blank, not think about anything from the past two weeks.  At a moment, he remembered the food he was served, and it took everything in him not to spit out what was in his mouth as it changed taste.

He was able to hold it in long enough to run to the sink and spit it out.  He ran the tap, pulling water to his mouth as he tried to get that horrid memory from his mind and tongue.

Dipper leaned heavily over the sink, panting some.  How often would this happen?  How many times would he remember what had happened?  How many times would he change his food, jump at noises, feel phantom pains of their ministrations?

How many times would he recoil from Bill, knowing full well that though it wasn't always wanted, it would never hurt the same way?

Dipper's whole body locked up when he felt a pressure between his shoulder blades.  His mind went racing, guessing if it was Salvish or Xenfrr that had come to him.  There was another second until he remembered the bloodbath he had witnessed the day before.  He didn't relax until he felt fingers grace his neck, and he let out a sigh as he realised it could be no one other than Bill.

His voice whispered in his ear," I thought you had left again." 

Dipper glanced over his shoulder at him.  He was fully clothed and smiling lightly, though a little frazzled.  Had he panicked when Dipper wasn't there when he woke up?

"Where would I go?" he asked.  There was no bitterness in his voice.  It was more like teasing.

He had just come back.  Why would he leave so soon?

"Fresh air, at least," Bill responded.  He stepped away from him, trailing his fingers down his back before making his way to one of stools at the island.  "Speaking of," he went on, "where were you going before?"

Dipper took another sip of water.  He briefly wondered if he could convince Bill to get an actual food source, but that was a conversation for later.  For now, he would just concentrate whenever he was eating.

"Salem," he answered.  No point in lying about it.  Even if he did get out of the cage, if that one dream had been true, he was on the other end of the country.  No way to get back now.

Bill was leaned over the counter, he head propped up on his palm, attention intent on Dipper.  "What's there?"

"Grimoires, spellbooks, that whole kind of thing," Dipper admitted.  He sat down in the other seat, pushing the half-eaten meal away from himself.  "One of my spellbooks hinted at it."

Bill tapped his cheek.  "One of the books here?"

"No, the one from..."  Dipper trailed off, his eyes widening as something clicked in place.

"Pine Tree?"

"My bag," he said low.

"What?"

"My... my backpack, it's still at the prison!"  The chair clattered to the floor as he stood up quickly.  He turned as if to run out, not once remembering where he was.

Dipper was stopped, a disembodied hand pushing him back into Bill, who wrapped arms around his middle.  "Calm down, Pine Tree."  He gave him a squeeze, stilling him from once more getting up.  "It's just a bag, you-"

"Mabel!" Dipper all but shouted.  "The rest doesn't matter, but Mabel was in there!"  He turned some to look Bill in the eyes.  He knew his eyes were welling up, but he didn't care.  It was all he had left of his twin; he had to have it back.  A part of him felt selfish for not having thought of it sooner, but everything had come on so fast, his thoughts and actions jumbled, he could only now think of her.

When Bill wouldn't let him go, he gripped at his lapels, adjusting himself in his lap as he brought himself closer to the monster's face.  "I can't leave her behind..."

The words were illogical.  The phrase meant nothing.  Mabel had been dead for almost a year.  But Dipper couldn't imagine leaving her casket at that horrible place.

Bill's eyes remained on his face, expression even.  He let out a small sigh before leaning in to kiss Dipper on the bridge of his nose.  Dipper tensed at first, but relaxed some as a hand went up and down his back.  "Don't fret, my little tree."  Bill smiled lightly.  "Ask and you shall receive."

Dipper was quiet for a moment.  That wasn't exactly what he had expected of a response.  "Will... will you get her for me?"

Bill chuckled.  "Of course."  He pulled Dipper further onto his lap, moving his leg so he was straddling him.  As his hands dipped to his backside, he leaned forward like he was going to kiss him, stopping within a breath of his lips.  "Anything for you."

"Bill..." was all Dipper could mutter before he was being kissed.  He didn't stop him, but instead put his hands on his neck and moved into him.  He opened his mouth willingly when Bill flicked his tongue across his lips.  He had only let himself get this involved a handful of times, and Bill didn't seem to want to waste it as he bit at his tongue and lips.

Dipper remembered his thoughts when he saw Bill only a day ago, standing in front of him as he began his assault on Eightball and his followers.  He remembered how he would have eagerly let Bill do anything to him if it meant saving him, if it meant he would never have any of those foul beasts inside of him again.  He would have let Bill fuck him in front of them in that moment, and he would have even showed enjoyment in it.  He would have called Bill's name loudly, proclaimed his right over his body, especially compared to Eightball and the others.

But that was that moment. 

Now they were back in the cage.  Now Bill's hands were wandering, and he knew what he would inevitably be after, like he always was.  He was being gentle, tender, almost slow, but how long would that last?  His teeth were already finding their way down his neck, and despite himself, he moved his head to allow it, even as they sunk into him, marking him.

Because that was how Bill worked.  Soft then hard.  He had found it the best way to work on him, and Dipper had found he responded to almost unintentionally.  Bill was going to fuck him no matter what, they both knew that.  But Bill wanted him to participate, to enjoy how hard he fucked him, and Dipper didn't want to be raped each time, so it always started soft and slow.  It always started with Bill behaving, Bill being good, Bill giving him attention, warming him up, and then going at it, raising the stakes.

Even the days he came at him fast and hard had something prefacing it with kindness, like spending time with him, listening to him, playing the part of almost the dutiful boyfriend, before forcing him on his knees and sinking himself deep within.

Was a cage any different than a prison?

"S-stop," Dipper choked out, though his tone was heady as Bill bit him just at the right spot on his neck that sent a shiver up his spine.

"Don't want to stop," Bill said low against his skin.  "It's been too long."  He continued biting him, holding him in place against his lap even as he started to struggle.

He could only keep himself behaved for so long, Dipper surmised.

Dipper put his hands on his chest, forcefully pulling his body away from Bill's mouth.  "I said stop," Dipper said.

Bill's brows were furrowed as he stared at Dipper.  They both knew it would happen, they both knew Bill would be on top of him once more, they both knew that Bill could not go too long without his lust controlling his actions.  But Dipper wasn't ready, Dipper still needed time to process what had happened in the prison, Dipper still needed time without assault, even if there were those times he wanted it.

He didn't want it now.  He wanted Bill; he had wanted him the entire time in the prison, but not like this.  He wanted the part of Bill that was human, the bits he saw in between his lustful acts.  He wanted the part that would spend the afternoon playing games with him, sitting in the study and reading, even the nights he held him after fucking him into the mattress.  It wasn't even William in any way.  It was all Bill, in his own way.

There was a thought, one he had made in passing several times; what would things have been like if Bill hadn't tried taking over the world?

"Pine Tree," Bill bit out.  He was still trying to get Dipper back to him, even when his hands were still keeping him at arms' length.  He tried to get up, but his hands on his backside kept him in place.

"Why can't you fucking understand?" Dipper spat at him.  "I don't want to, I'm not going to."

Bill's glare was still in place.  He moved in again, only to have Dipper put a hand on his mouth to stop him.

"Bill," he said, his voice louder than usual.  "Do you understand what happened?  Do you get what I went through?"  He didn't remove his hand, pushing him back instead.  "Why the hell would you think I would want to?  You promised yesterday you wouldn't, you made it sound like you got this, but now-"

"I'm not them, am I?" Bill interrupted, speaking loud enough to be heard through his hand.  "I don't treat you like they did, when I fuck you-"

"Don't treat me like them?"  Dipper could hear the indignation in his tone.  "You're right, you don't: it's fucking worse with you."  He could feel the rage building in him, the anger he had been holding back since the first time he had gone on his knees for Bill.

"I don't-"

"What?  Rape me?"

Bill stilled, his eyes narrowed on Dipper.  He made no retort.  And how could he?  It was the truth hanging around that Dipper didn't know how to bring up, or even if Bill understood that's what he had done.

"You want me to act grateful, but fuck you for that."  He removed his hand from his mouth, but still kept the other on his chest.  "You think just because I don't say no makes it consent?  You think I want you to fuck me like you do?

"Just because you don't have five on me at once doesn't make what you do any different, Bill," Dipper said through gritted teeth.  "You killed my family and friends, destroyed the world I love, and then made me fall in love with you for shits and giggles.  What part of that screams, 'Fuck me!'?"

Bill still said nothing.  Dipper stared back, jaw locked, daring him to say something, to refute him.  There was so much he wanted to say to him, how he wanted to make him realise that this arrangement had its flaws.  What would Bill do with it, though?  Was there even a point to yelling at him?

Well, in for a penny.

"Did you really think that just because I wanted to fuck William, I'd want to _fuck you_?"

That was a lie.  Dipper knew it.  He liked the way Bill fucked him most of the time, he just didn't like how the situation had come up.  But they were in that situation.  There was nothing Bill could do to reverse that.

Because it was Bill's fault, everything that had happened.  He couldn't take the blame, not now, not for his messed up feelings or the what-ifs he had been going through in detail, especially in the prison.

"Did you think I would be fine once you came and got me?  I'm here, and I'd rather be here, but that doesn't mean I don't remember why I was there to begin with.

"You are the reason Eightball and Xenfrr and Galiit and Shyfen and Salvish had me in every way, even in ways you never did.  They fucked me so hard, I couldn't move most of the time."  He gripped Bill's lapel once more, holding him in place as he leaned in.  "And you want me to be grateful to them passing me around with whoever wanted me, when, no matter how you want to play it, it was all your fault!?"

Dipper yelped before the wind was knocked out of him as he was slammed onto the island counter.  He was bent at the hips in an awkward way as Bill's body covered him.  Dipper opened his mouth to exclaim something, but was silenced by Bill's lips, harsh and persistent on him.  He grabbed his wrists, holding them above his head, keeping him in place even as he struggled, doing his best to kick out.  Bill was in between his legs, pushing their lower halves together as he continued to kiss him almost too fiercely.

It was several more moments before he broke the kiss.  It wasn't until his mouth was away from his that Dipper realised his harsh breathing, and became upset with himself at responding so quick and _easily_ to him.

"This would have always happened," Bill hissed against his lips.  "This world would have always come to this, no matter what you think."  Dipper could feel the cold of metal around his wrists, holding him down as Bill's hands moved down his body.

"Even if you and that family of yours had somehow banished me, I would have come back."  Fingers were under his shirt, feeling his skin.  "I had promises to keep, to people I never even liked or cared for."

Dipper's back arced when nails scrapped down his sides.  A sound left him before he could bite his lip.  Now was not the time to give into the monster's ministrations.  He had a point he had to make.

"Earth was always supposed to be taken by me, since I first came to the river and the dreams of those in the Upper Kingdom."

"Bill, stop," Dipper tried to interject, but his words went unheard.

"But you misunderstand the situation.  If it wasn't me, there are others who wanted it just as much, who would have done worse to have it.  Your family would have always been killed.  In another timeline, you would have gone with them."

Dipper forced his body to still, willing himself not to respond to any of Bill's touches.  He bit his tongue as he leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Would you have believed me?  Would you have come with me if I told you that truth?"  Dipper grunted when a finger trailed along his sternum.  "This would have always been the world's fate.  Isn't it better like this?"

"Why couldn't you have left me with my family?"  Dipper's voice was small.

"Maybe I should have," Bill said with some amount of resignation.  "But I can't... I don't want to take that back now."  His lips were on his cheeks and jaw.  "I want you, only you.  And if I have to be in a world with people I don't really want to share it with, I will keep the one person I do want to be with."

"Bill."  The name left unbidden from his lips, as Bill's teeth latched onto his neck.  "It... it doesn't matter, if the things would have always ended up like this..."  His words felt weak as he spoke.  He had felt strong during his outburst only moments ago, but now he felt exhausted.  He wasn't struggling anymore as Bill kissed him once more on the lips.

Bill's kiss was rough and pressing, like he was trying to meld with Dipper.  For all of his bravado once before, now he opened his mouth, distracted by Bill's words.  What was he talking about?  What did he mean about there being others?  Did he really think that would assuage him from being bitter about what had transpired over the past eight years?

"It matters to me," Bill said after parting lips.  "Because it was always going to be you.  Even if it had been someone else getting the Earth, if I had come across you, I would have stolen you."

Dipper ignored the flush on his face from the statement.  "You can't know that."

Bill just smirked in response.  He started kissing him again, down his neck and chest.  Dipper bit his lip once more when he felt a tongue across his abdomen.  Bill's hands had moved to the small of his back, his fingers digging in as he pulled Dipper closer.  Bill grinded against him and a groan left him despite all his efforts.  He grit his teeth, upset at his response, but even more upset at how hard Bill was regardless of the serious nature of their conversation.

Dipper's eyes fell on Bill, glaring as he chided, "Bill, I told you-"

"Let me-"

"Why?"  Dipper's struggles began once more, but Bill responded by lifted his legs up by the back of the knees.  "Why do you insist on- on this?"  Dipper tried kicking, but found the back of his shins on Bill's shoulders as he leaned over him. 

"To show it's different," Bill said simply.

Bill was rubbing up against him; he could feel his thickness through their clothes.  But it was different, in size at least.  Different than everyone that had been inside him in the last two weeks.  Eightball had been huge, both length and girth, and Xenfrr felt like he was impaling him each time.  The others weren't as big, but they still weren't the size he had been accustomed to with Bill.

That didn't mean he wanted the reminder right this moment.

"Look, Bill, I know, I know it's different, just..."  Dipper groaned.  "Get off me."   He pulled his legs off his shoulders, but could only rest them around his hips how he had pushed him on the counter.  "I'm... I'm tired of being fucked."

Bill looked down at him, eyebrow slightly raised.  "But I wasn't-"

"I know it wasn't you," Dipper said with a sigh.  "And I know you wouldn't.  But it's different for humans, don't you get that?"  He pulled some on the chains at his wrists.  He was glad that all the times he had been held down in the prison were by force and nothing binding: he couldn't imagine Bill wanting to let go of that while Dipper recovered from the trauma.

"Why do you want to fuck me, anyway?" Dipper asked.  "How do any of you know about this kind of thing?  You aren't from here, you're not even human." 

It was a good question, he thought.  He had asked it before, but he felt Bill's curiosity answer was vague at best.

"Other species do it, not just the ones here."  Dipper shivered as a hand palmed his clothed member.  "Pleasure isn't monopolised by you humans, you know."

Bill continued to rub him as he gyrated against him.  Dipper's lower half responded, but he held a hard glare on him still.  "But you didn't have a real body before."  He groaned at one particularly shaped stroke.  "Why...  I get you wanted me, kind of, but why..."

"I've been watching humans for so long..."  He slowly unbuttoned the buttons on his pyjama bottoms, making a show of it.  He could have easily gone under the hem, but no, he was teasing him with something he didn't even want.  "There was always something so compelling about this, even from an outsider's point of view.  The faces you humans make, it's almost humorous.

"Except when there's something else there.  When it's more than physical pleasure."  He leaned in to whisper in Dipper's ear, "I love it when you make that face, Pine Tree."

Dipper remembered his question from the night before, of Bill and emotions.  The way Bill spoke and how his mouth felt hot on his skin, he couldn't forget the answer.

_"I think I might."_

"I... can't..."  Dipper struggled against the chains again.  "Please, Bill..."  He turned his head, and leaned into Bill, nuzzling into his neck.  "I can't just forget what happened.  I can't... please don't make me..."

Bill didn't move for a long moment.  Finally, he sighed, and as he lifted himself up, the metal rescinded from his flesh.  Dipper let out a breath as he sat up, rubbing his wrists subconsciously.  They didn't hurt, they never did, but it was more the absence noticed than anything else.

Bill stood in front of him, still close, but no longer touching.  He had a look about him, serious, but still concerned.  "What they did... is not what I do."

Dipper sighed.  He gave him a long hard look, silent as he tried to read Bill's face.  He was right.  Despite the truth Dipper had said earlier, he also believed Bill when he said he wanted it to be good for him.  He wasn't human.  He didn't understand... there was so much he didn't understand.

Did he really not get it that he couldn't just forget the prison?

"It's not..."  Inexplicably, Dipper wanted to touch him in that moment.  He wanted him to understand...  Dipper knew that eventually, they would be physical again.  It was complicated, and maybe so much of it was stupid, but he still liked parts of what they had.

But the arrangement had to change.  Bill had to know that.  He just had to.

"Put your hands on the counter."

Bill raised a brow.  "What?"

Dipper patted either side of his legs before taking Bill's wrists and setting his hands, palms down, on the marble.  "Don't... just... keep your hands here, okay?"

Bill nodded.  Dipper stood and slid off the counter, which was an awkward thing to do with how close Bill still was.  When his feet were on the ground, he was still chest-to-chest with Bill.  He had a sharp eye on him, but said nothing when Dipper put his hands on his chest.  He stared at his neck for a moment, working over what to do in his mind.

He needed him to understand.  He needed him to know what had to happen if any of this were to continue.  Because he knew that he wanted it to, despite himself.

"Don't move," he said softly.  "Just... let me."

"Let you...?"

Dipper was already on his knees as Bill asked the question.  He was already unzipping his fly and pulling out his still erect phallus.

"Pine Tree?"

Dipper looked up at him, his hand wrapped around the base.  "If you touch me, I stop."  He ran his palm up his shaft.  Bill shuddered under the touch.  "So keep your hands up there."

Bill simply nodded, his eyes never leaving Dipper's face.  He spread his legs some to give himself better balance, but made no other movements.  When Dipper was satisfied he was going to obey, he put his lips on the head of his penis.  Bill let out a long sigh as his mouth worked down him.

Dipper was deliberately slow in his actions.  He moved along him with both his mouth and hand, meeting in the middle over and over.  He kept his other hand on his hip, trying to keep him from moving when he could.  Once and again, he would swallow him completely, but he kept his bobbing shallow for the most part.

Bill made noises above him.  He grunted and groaned.  Dipper could hear his fingers curling, and for a moment, he thought it sounded like they were digging into the marble.  Whenever his hips moved forward, Dipper would pull back until he was just licking the head.  This was enough incentive for Bill to pull back and stay still as much as he could.

Dipper continued to work on him, not going much faster with each stroke and move of his head.  He could hear Bill spitting commands through his clenched teeth; he could tell Bill's legs were tense from trying not to fuck his face so hard his head hit the island.

Dipper pulled back when he felt the presence above him.  He looked up to see Bill's hand hovering above his head.  Dipper glared at him.

"Don't touch me," he growled.  "I will stop."

"I want to-"

"I need this, Bill."  He was still stroking his erection as he looked up at him.  "I need..."

Bill was silent as he put his hand back on the counter.  In another moment, Dipper had him deep in his mouth again.

The kitchen was quiet aside from some slurps and occasional cursing from Bill.  Bill was holding himself steady, leaning heavily on the counter as Dipper kept sucking him off.

"I want to come in your mouth," Bill said through heavy breathing.

Dipper smiled around his length.  He had heard those same words so many times, but now they held a much different tone to them.  Bill wasn't saying it before he did it.  He was _asking permission_.

He guessed he could be kind and oblige.

Dipper pulled up to the head, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked on it.  He flicked his tongue over the slit, eliciting a long moan from the monster above him.  He pushed his hips forward, and before Dipper could stop him, he ejaculated deep inside his mouth.  Dipper held him in place, not letting him choke him any further as he worked on swallowing the load.

When he was done milking into him, Bill pulled away, taking a few steps back.  Dipper wiped away what leaked out of the corners of his lips as he finished his last gulp of semen.  He let out a deep sigh, surprised that he almost enjoyed the taste.  But anything was better than Salvish's sour seed, he supposed.

Briefly lost in thought, he was caught off guard when Bill kissed him roughly, taking his head in his hands.  Dipper made a small squeak, but it was swallowed by Bill's almost needy mouth as he pushed him back to lie on the floor.  He put his hands on his chest, but didn't stop him as the kiss became more passionate.

Dipper froze when he felt a hand in his pants, still open from before.  He grabbed at Bill's wrist, his face set in a snarl as he spat, "Do not-"

"It's fine," Bill spoke over him.  He kissed him again, urging him to lie back down.  Dipper didn't at first, his brows still furrowed and accusing.

"I'm not ready, Bill," he said.  He didn't remove his hand from his wrist, but Bill kept his hand in place, fingers still feathering his erection. 

"And I assume I'll be the first to know when you are," Bill answered simply.  "But for now..."  He adjusted, taking Dipper's length fully in his hand.  He leaned in once more, and this time Dipper let himself rest on his back as Bill once more kissed him.  

He kept a loose grasp on his wrist, even as Bill started to stroke him.  Bill's other hand was on his neck, his thumb fluttering over his skin.  Their kiss became heated again as Dipper spread his legs some and let go of Bill's hand.  He put his arms around his back, fisting the cloth of his shirt as Bill's speed and pressure changed.

Dipper had to pull away from him, his breathing hard as he turned away.  Bill took it as an invitation to start biting at his neck, harder than he had before.  He was sure it would leave a mark, but he didn't care.  Bill could mark him all he wanted to, after what he had been through.

Dipper's back arced, his hips moving more into Bill's hand.  His body wanted more, but when he thought of what that meant, he cringed.  The idea of something inside him like that was still far from pleasant.  He would be satisfied with this for now: it was more than Bill gave normally.

"Are you getting close, Pine Tree?"

"Y-yeah..." Dipper answered through a raspy breath.

Bill hummed pleasantly.  Suddenly his lips and hand were gone.  Dipper almost sat up to object, but gasped when he was adjusted, his legs put over Bill's shoulders once more.  This time, however, it wasn't Bill's lower half he was being pulled into, but into his open mouth.

Dipper almost instantly moaned at the feeling of the wet heat around him.  Bill took him completely, and Dipper found himself making an arch as he reacted to the sensation.  He remembered when Bill had done it briefly in the subway and how badly he wanted him to finish.  Was he going to this time?  Or would he just use it as an excuse to fuck him again?

Dipper cried out Bill's name as he continued to bob his head up and down his length.  He had one hand on his shoulder, as the other covered his face with one arm, too embarrassed by his reaction.  Bill was always calm whenever Dipper was giving him fellatio, but he couldn't imagine being so composed as the knot in his lower abdomen tightened.

"Please, please," Dipper heard himself begging.

Bill took one long last suck up his shaft before leaving him with a wet pop.  He grinned up at Dipper.  "What is it, Pine Tree?"  He licked the tip, sending a shiver through Dipper's body.  "What would you like?"

"I... please, let me come..."

"I planned on it," Bill replied.  "Can't be too much of an asshole, can I?"

"No, I want..."

"You want to come in my mouth?"

Dipper nodded.

Bill only chuckled before going back to what he was doing.  Dipper let his head fall back, enjoying what he assumed would be one of the few times he would get a blow job in this... relationship.

It wasn't much longer until it was too much.  He gripped Bill's hair, pulling slightly.  He seemed to get the hint, as he went half way down, leaving his mouth in place as Dipper shouted with his climax.  He held onto him until he felt empty, then he dropped his arms, his whole body going limp as he let out heavy breaths.

And then Bill was face to face with him again, smiling as he leaned in to kiss him once more.  Dipper opened his mouth, ready to participate, when he felt something thick pass into his mouth.  His eyes widened as he tasty the salty substance, and he pushed against Bill.  He left his person, but Dipper had already swallowed, more than habit than anything else.

"What the-!?"

Bill snickered as he stood.  "I have my standards," he said.  He leaned down, picking up Dipper with ease.  "Why don't we play some games?  That always seems to keep your mind off things."

Dipper blinked at him before scowling.  "Asshole."

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have the second part up shortly. And if anyone is interested in more dark Billdip, let me know. I am more than eager to write it.


End file.
